


Conviction

by whiteroses77



Series: Sentenced [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Phantom Zone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 06:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9310364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: Batman volunteers for a mission to find something that has been lost. It will take him to an unfamiliar and formidable place. Will it be worth it when he finds something that makes him question himself?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Smallville season 10 episode Dominion.

TITLE: Conviction 1/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,220  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Batman volunteers for a mission to find something that has been lost. It will take him to an unfamiliar and formidable place. Will it be worth it when he finds something that makes him question himself?

~B~

He was fighting for his life; his opponents were something that he had never come across before. They tore past him, gouging, and tearing, and he silently thanked Lucius for the strength and durability of the suit that he wore. He couldn’t stop his attackers, they were non-corporeal, and he couldn’t make physical contact to damage them. These things, which he was told were phantoms, spirits of criminals banished to this different plane, this alien place. They told him it was too dangerous, told him that a human couldn’t survive unaided for long in the Phantom Zone.

His ordeal came to an end as he was forced down to the gritty dust covered ground. Then there were dozens of feet next to his head, and then he was being hauled up, rough hands tying his hands together in front of him. Then he was being forced to march.

As they journeyed Batman got his first look at this pocket of space and time, where some alien race had deigned that their criminals to live on forever. It was grimy sand and rock as far as the eye could see; it reminded him of pictures he had seen of Death Valley on Earth. The sky was gloomy, there seemed to be no sun to part the clouds. The air was close and oppressive, yet winds whipped past without a cooling breeze to offer, only coarse sand that stung his lips, and dried them, and it made him wonder if there was any water here to drink.

The dark clothed figures, who led him, were like ragged Bedouin with their heads and faces covered; protection against the biting sand. He knew they were corporeal, he’d been told that some criminals had kept their bodies; he was told that the phantoms could steal bodies too. He’d been warned not to come, maybe pride in his own skills, in his own endurance blinded him to the enormity of the task, or maybe it was plain and simple desperation mixed with hope.

He had witnessed with his own eyes, heard about, and had that statistics to verify it. The last eleven months something in the world had changed, and not for the better. Gotham had been bad for a long time, most of his life, but that criminality had leeched into other places now, all over the world things were getting worse. Criminals were getting braver, good people were looking at others with suspicion and paranoia, and the people in between were slipping into apathy. 

The place that presented this the most was Metropolis, the city of glass. Eleven months ago, Metropolis was the envy of others, certainly of Gotham and of Batman. He remembers looking at it from afar and hoping for Gotham to rise to its level. Not that Metropolis had been crime free, yet three years before it had been worse. Batman had followed the news, public, and the underground; he knew what the difference had been. 

A vigilante known as the Red-Blue Blur had taken up the cause of Metropolis, just as Batman had taken up Gotham’s cause. Batman didn’t know him, only his symbol but he knew his deeds. He knew he was on the side of goodness, and so did the decent citizens of Metropolis and the bad ones too. The super-powered Blur had gathered support from the public, with them never laying sight on his face. Just by witnessing his good deeds, he had become a beacon of hope. 

Eleven months ago, things changed, his symbol disappeared from sight overnight, and the crime rates rocketed. Batman had carried on his own mission, yet with an eye on and waiting for something to change in Metropolis. 

Finally, he and Barbara had set out to find out what had happened to Metropolis’ Blur. He and his tenacious protégé traced the remnants of a team; people that tried to do good, but they were spread out looking out for their own cities now, aimless individuals without the nucleus of their group, the one that the others orbited like protons, that were attracted to him, to his cause. But find them they did, and they told them of the fate of the Blur. 

Batman saw the tents ragged just as everything in this Phantom Zone was. If the information that he had received was still good, he was being brought to stand in front of a megalomaniac named General Zod. Nevertheless, Batman was ready for the confrontation, a man such as that always wanted something and had something to lose. A maniac, who wanted nothing, was capable of losing nothing and that was the much scarier prospect. Batman was no stranger to that kind of man.

His allies had told him how the Blur had been lost in this place; entering to find the cause of a break out, after these criminals had been found on the streets of Metropolis. The Blur’s allies say he was pierced by a sword in an all or nothing escape plan. The Blur had defended the portal so his friend could escape, shoving him through with the padlock to this hellhole with him. He had cut himself off so the Phantoms and the criminals couldn’t escape too. He sacrificed himself for the greater good of Earth.

It was selfless. He could understand the decision, and he admired it. Yet he couldn’t understand why the Blur’s friends hadn’t used the device to go back, and get him out. If the Red-Blue Blur was the… it was a strange notion in this day and age but if he was the ‘hero’ that could tip the balance, how could you leave him behind? The answers he had received were logical. He’s certainly dead, because Zod wouldn’t have let him live. Clark wouldn’t… Clark that was the Blur’s name, he found out. Clark Kent wouldn’t want them to do something so stupid, something so dangerous. The criminals couldn’t be allowed to escape. On Earth, they gained powers, but in the Zone, they were men capable of being hurt. Taking the chance of them getting to Earth, without the Blur there to defend them would be absurd. 

He could understand their arguments, but someone had to come here, just to see, just to make sure. If the equalizer for Earth’s future could be found and rescued, he had to come.

His fight for the streets of Gotham would be futile if the rest of the world fell into ruin.

~*~

He was pushed forward into the unknown, through the flaps of a ramshackle tent, coarse fabric spread over stalagmites of what looked like dark crystal. It was a relief to get out of the oppressive atmosphere. His captors pushed him towards a group of people. They announced, “We have found a stranger my Lord.”

He wasn’t surprised that they spoke English; he’d been told that the technological base of this place meant the place had its own built in babel fish. Batman’s eyes took in these people, taking note of the outsider in their sanctum. They were mainly men; there were man-mountains, as well as men who were obviously strong and lean after living in such a hard environment. There were a few women too. One woman with short black hair turned and stared, and he saw disdain in her dark eyes as she looked at him. He knew no one here, so he knew it couldn’t be personal that hate in her eyes. His eyes left her and were then drawn to a figure, well-built and bearded, black hair unkempt and messy, lounging idly in a throne like chair, one of his legs hanging over one arm. He had muscular arms bared and he had an air of insolence about him, he didn’t even bother looking up at his arrival. 

Batman’s gaze was dragged away as another man, bearded too, but shorter and leaner broke free of the group. His captor’s bowed to this man. He was dressed in black leather, and he had the posture of a military man. He wasn’t old but he wasn’t young either. Yet his eyes seemed older than his face. In those eyes, Batman saw curiosity mixed with the contempt that the woman had shown in her gaze. He didn’t turn his face away from the man but he knew she was watching their every move like a hawk.

With coolness, the man stated, “You are new here.”

He replied, “What makes you say that?”

He heard a hiss from the woman at his reply, but his eyes focused on the man in front of him, sensing it was dangerous to take your eyes off him for a second. The man nodded along, and then his eyes narrowed, he stated, “You are new here because you talk to me as someone who does not know his place or mine.”

Under the cover of his suit, Batman swallowed and then he made the judgment call, and prayed that he was right. “I did not mean to cause offence, General.”

He saw a flash of surprise in his cold eyes. Then he nodded astutely. “Very good, but you are still new to the Zone.” He reached out and touched the material that the Batsuit was made of. He nodded, “This armour while impressive has not weathered in his place.”

He didn’t answer back, there was no point, he had seen the poor appearance of the people living here, knew the Batsuit was conspicuous by its cared for appearance. 

The General continued, “The lilt of your tongue betrays you too, human.” 

“I am human what of it?” he defended his species instinctively.

Then suddenly Zod laughed, and he tossed over his shoulder, “I have a new pet here for you, Kal-El.”

Batman followed the tossed out comment to its target, and he found the man lounging on the throne had turned in their direction and was already watching their interaction. He saw irritation in his countenance, as he looked their way. Zod smirked, and then he focused on Batman again. “So did they tell you about me, before they sent you to hell?”

On edge, he answered, “Yes.”

“Are Earth prisons not good enough for you?” the General inquired.

He let out a slow breath, grateful for his wrong assessment of the situation. He played along, yet with smug truth, “No cell can hold me.”

The General whispered menacingly, “You should’ve done your time on your pathetic little planet; you’re going to wish you had.”

Settling into the appointed role given to him, he drawled, “Really, bring it on.”

With cold amusement, Zod chuckled, and then he ordered, “Remove your mask, no unfair advantages in the arena.”

He stared. He didn’t follow his order; his need to protect his identity was so ingrained now. Zod glanced towards his men, “Take it off him.”

Batman tensed, and he told them seriously, “Take it off, and it’ll explode.”

Incredulously, Zod eyed him, “You’re willing to kill yourself to keep a mask.”

He smirked in return.

The dark eyed woman came up beside the General, and she urged viciously, “Let me do it, kill the fool.”

He knew at its heart, this was a prison pure and simple. He knew it was a mistake to show weakness, so he stood his ground, and he sneered at the woman, “I hope you’ll enjoy having no hands, honey.”

The woman rushed forward, and lifted her hand to strike. Zod called with authority, “No, Ursa.”

She stopped instantly. She snarled at him and stepped back. 

General Zod appeared annoyed at her rash action, but he said calmly, “I have commanded that he go into the arena, do you question my orders, my dear?”

For a second, and for the first time, the woman Ursa appeared afraid, she swallowed hard, and glanced back at the man sitting in the throne and replied, “Of course not General.”

Zod’s focus returned to Batman, and he stated with lingering annoyance, “You shall enter the arena without your mask, or you will leave this tent without your head.”

Batman considered his options, it wasn’t much of a choice, remove his cowl and reveal his face and go and fight to the death in an arena or fight his way out of here and get back to the portal site, and forfeit his mission. He hadn’t had chance to find the whereabouts of Clark Kent, or his definitive fate as the case may very well be.

As he came to the only viable conclusion, his focus returned in front of him, as General Zod’s spine stiffened slightly, and then Batman saw that the younger man from the throne had approached from behind Zod. As the man’s lips found Zod’s ear, he murmured, “My General.” 

He saw Zod’s eyelashes blink slowly, and his eyelids become somewhat heavy, and with a touch of a smile on his lips, Zod replied, “Hmm what is it Kal-El?”

Batman saw over Zod’s shoulder surprisingly alluring eyes meeting his, and he saw nestled in his short beard the full lips that were next to Zod’s ear, pull into a smile, as he whispered, “I like his head attached to his body.”

Zod smirked softly, and inquired, “You like him?”

Though his frame was large, Kal-El glided around, leaving Zod’s back, and came to stand behind Batman’s instead. Silkily, he said in response, “I like his bravado.” 

He felt Kal-El’s big hands come around, and stroke over his armour covered torso. He stilled, and allowed it without argument. If he could gain any kind of leverage, someone to aid his mission here, it was the expedient thing to do.

He sensed the shadow of Kal-El’s mouth next to his cowl covered ear as he spoke, “I want to see my pet fight; I bet it’s a sight to see.”

Ursa urged, “No my lord, he is insolent, I want to see him rip his own mask off.”

Batman stayed silent in this battle of alien wills. He saw Zod looking over his shoulder, and sensed Kal-El returning that gaze, before murmuring a bargain, “Let him keep it on, and I’ll make him remove it if he wins.”

Zod’s eyes gleamed, and then he commanded, “Gather the people; we’re going watch this Earth man die.”

~*~

Minutes later, the tent was packed with people, criminals all. They were bloodthirsty and eager to see a fight. As of Kal-El’s request, he was allowed to wear his cowl, but his utility belt was taken from him. He hoped to god that someone didn’t try to open a compartment. If someone lost a hand, he knew he would be executed on the spot. His eyes scanned the arena, he found Kal-El over next to the throne, except now it was Zod who sat there from the best seat in the house. He saw as his utility belt was brought to and presented to Kal-El. He saw Zod, and Kal-El meet each other’s gaze with what looked like affection but was slightly off. Ursa was on the other side of Zod, and her face revealed her contempt at Zod’s focus. 

Obviously, Kal-El was Zod’s favourite, his face, body language showed it, and his appeasement of the younger man’s wishes attested to it.

The audience gathered around, and a big bull of a man stepped out and Batman acknowledged his opponent. He wondered for a second if this was supposed to be unarmed combat. Just as he remembered the fate of Clark Kent, a sword in the gut, a sword, and a battle-axe was thrown onto the dirt floor between the two participants. 

There was a moment of hesitation, before Zod announced, “Fight!”

Batman sprang into action, he dove, and he grabbed the handle of his choice of weapon, and tumbled back onto his feet into a fighting stance. The bull lagged behind and made a grab for the other weapon. Batman held the battle-axe in a fast but steady grip, and before the other man could stand upright, Batman lunged and jabbed the axe handle into his opponents shoulder. The man screamed as his shoulder was dislocated. The crowd cheered, and urged on the violence. 

The man-mountain managed to swap hands, and held the sword out in front of him. Batman saw his grip was unsteady, and he could imagine the pain his opponent was feeling. He lunged desperately, and Batman swiftly, turned aside, and danced away. He twisted sideways at the last moment, and slammed his elbow and then the blunt side of the axe shaft into his stomach. The bull choked in air and doubled over. As he did, Batman brought his knee up into the man’s face, snapping his head back. He stepped back and let the man fall to the ground. 

He stood over his barely conscious opponent, victory was his, yet the crowd cried out for more, more violence, more blood, they wanted to see death, here right now.

He knew all here were criminals, they’d all been found guilty by their peers in whatever world they belonged, bringing people to justice was his business but he wouldn’t be their executioner.

He continued to stand there and let their fevered fervour flow over him, as if it was nothing.

Then the crowd was quietened, as Zod spoke, “This is a fight to the death Earth man, someone dies here right now, is that someone going to be you?”

The choice of your own survival, dying for an innocent, or taking the life of a monster… what kind of choice was that.

And then for the second time that day, Kal-El spoke to Zod on his behalf, “My pet won, he has the right to survival.”

Zod glanced at Kal-El sideways and then stood up from his throne, and he walked over to Batman. The bull lay in his path, and he stepped over him, on him, pressing down on his dislocated shoulder, with bone grinding purpose, and no sympathy. He stepped back onto the ground, and met Batman’s gaze. He said, “Kal-El desires that his pet live. Do you accept his patronage?”

Batman’s gaze left Zod and found Kal-El’s. Batman was still finding his feet, and he didn’t know what that meant here in this cruel place. Yet he knew to belong to Zod’s favourite was probably the safest place to be for now. He nodded and agreed, “Yes.”

His reply was met by a smile, that wasn’t quite a smile from the younger alien, then Kal-El left his seat, and he walked to him, stepping around the fallen fighter. He stopped in front of Batman. Then Zod ordered, “Kneel before Kal-El.”

He breathed deeply, and then he lowered himself slowly to his knees. Kal-El held out his hand, and Batman stretched up and took it, and held it and then bowed his cowl covered head. 

He prayed that he could somehow complete his mission, find Clark Kent, and get the hell out of this place.

 

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Conviction 2/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,877  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Batman tries to get the lay of the land inside the Phantom Zone.

~*~

Batman was led into a chamber, and told to wait by these Phantom Zone serfs. He was left alone, and he shook out his body. He was still feeling hyped from the fight, not that he’d admit to anyone that he relished the thrill of a fight. His life mission was serious, it wasn’t a game, but it didn’t mean he didn’t get satisfaction from it. Then he instinctively did what his training had taught him, he got the lay of the land, so to speak. His keen eyes studied the chamber, rough cloth were the walls, stretched from tall crystalline outcrop to outcrop. He saw the main focus of the room was a stuffed lumpy looking mattress, nothing grand but probably a luxury in this hellhole, the headboard was a chunk of dark crystal. He couldn’t see any personal effects here in this makeshift bedroom. He noticed in the corner, a pile of leather and cloth. He walked over and looked it over. It was simplistic black leather armour, and a tattered cape, a faded red colour. In a place such as this, he knew all this was luxurious, he guessed the ordinary prisoners didn’t get a room like this. He knew whose room he’d been brought to.

He turned around when he heard another enter. He saw him place down his utility belt, that luckily hadn’t been forced open to reveal its contents, and then he found his otherworldly gaze. Kal-El met his gaze, but his eyes were unreadable. There didn’t seem to be the contempt there as with the others but the smile from after the fight was gone. Batman began, “Thank you for helping me out there.”

This alien lieutenant blinked slowly, maybe not expecting his thanks and then he shrugged nonchalantly, and he scorned, “Anything to enrage the lovely Ursa.”

He wasn’t sure if he believed that motive, Ursa hadn’t even seemed to be on Kal-El’s radar at all out there. He commented, “It seemed to be about you and Zod more than anything.”

The unreadable look gave way as Kal-El’s eyes hinted at devilry, and a smirk sneaked onto his face. He nodded, and said wryly, “Got to keep my General entertained.” He circled around Batman slowly, as he had done before, keen eyes gauging him. “Talking of entertainment…”

Holding his nerve, Batman said, “I hope you were entertained by the fight.”

Even through his armour, he felt the alien’s hands tracing around his waist, as before he didn’t make a fuss. It made him think of the common sense of keeping your hands in your pockets in the presence of a strange and maybe vicious dog. A sudden movement could be regarded as an attack. Kal-El murmured, “It was very exciting but it was over way too soon for everybody’s liking.”

Still sensing his hands on him, he began to wonder if swearing his fealty to Kal-El had included more than his loyalty, had it included his body – to fight for him and serve him, to satisfy him, had he unknowingly agreed to be Kal-El’s prison bitch. He felt the sensation of Kal-El’s fingertip as it traced his armour covered back. He wondered if these aliens could sense fear, but Batman was determined not to give in and give them what they wanted. He uttered over his shoulder, “I suppose you can last longer, put on a better show?”

Next to his cowl-covered ear, “I don’t fight in the arena.” he was told in an amused whisper.

Batman’s eyes found the armour in the corner again, and he guessed, “But you used to, if that’s your armour over there.”

The other man’s hands left him, and he circled back around him until he met his gaze again. He admitted, “I did until Zod got bored.” He reached out, traced the bat symbol on his chest, and said covetously, “I’d have liked to have armour like this back then.”

He was quiet, wondering how many battles Zod had inflicted on his favourite before he had gotten bored. Or maybe Kal-El’s viciousness in the arena was what had created their perverse attraction and affection. 

Kal-El told him, “You do know that you’re going to have to take it off.”

He remembered this dark lieutenant promising his dark lord, that if he won he’d make him take off the cowl. He had won, and he had committed himself to Kal-El. He had to have faith that meant that he had Kal-El’s protection here in the Zone. He bowed slightly, “I’ll have to honour your word, Kal-El.”

The handsome alien stroked his own beard, and he chuckled, “Boy, you learn fast for a human.”

“You’ve known many humans?” he inquired.

Kal-El snorted softly, and he turned and he went and sat down on his shabby bed. He leaned back against the lump of crystal that was the makeshift headboard and met his gaze, “A few, and they were all stubborn and illogical, even faced with overwhelming odds they still fought, thinking they had a chance, thought they were smarter than a Kryptonian.”

From somewhere deep inside him, Batman smiled with pride for his species, and he shrugged, “You just described me to a T.” 

The alien pursed his generous lips. Then he eyed him, and uttered, “Take it off.”

Batman took a fortifying breath, understanding he wasn’t asking, he understood the quiet demand. He reached up, and he unclasped the cowl and then lifted it from his head. Once it was in his hand, he put it down with his utility belt and then he ran his hand over his hair, and then he met Kal-El’s gaze again. He saw his full lips part, and they silently mouthed something, that looked a hell of a lot like ‘Oh my…’ 

He straightened his shoulders at the intense look that he was receiving. He asked wryly, “Does my lord approve?”

His lips curled up at the edges of his beard. “I’m not your lord, I’m just…” he breathed shallowly, “I’m just Kal-El.”

“No military rank like Zod has?” he wondered.

“No, my family were scientists, but they had to work with the military.” he explained.

“Weapons?” he surmised.

He appeared as though he was going to answer but then thought better of it. Kal-El licked his lips, and murmured, “Take the rest of it off.”

He let out a breath, and then did as he was told. He stripped down, until he was naked, no underwear in the Batsuit. The remnants of the excitement of the fight, were lingering in his almost flaccid penis. Then he met his gaze again, and the hunger he thought he saw in his eyes made him wonder again if his fealty meant Kal-El thought he had a right to his body. He had come here to the Phantom Zone to willingly forfeit his life to find a greater champion for the world than he. He came here searching for Clark Kent, and he wondered now how much he was willing to sacrifice for that hope. As far as letting Kal-El take his body, just to buy time, just to buy protection from the worse people in the universe while he searched for word of Clark Kent. Was the Red-Blue Blur worth it?

Kal-El’s alluring eyes were still watching him, admiring him. He saw him slowly move his hand until it neared his crotch, he saw his thumb slowly stroke the material, it was subtle, but in the confinement of this room, just the two of them it was a blatant sign. For a moment, he felt pride in his desirability, he’d worked hard for his fitness, for his physique, he knew the women back home desired it too. But then fleeting moments later, he became repulsed by the notion that he was being coveted by something that had been sent to the Phantom Zone, something that the alien’s own civilization had wanted banished to this desolate place, something that would wreak havoc on Earth if it was allowed to escape.

He saw the criminal’s chest rise and fall, before he asked silkily, “What’s your name?”

He didn’t want to share anything of himself with his man, yet without the cowl to hide the truth behind, it slipped from his lips, “Bruce.”

Kal-El laughed softly, “That’s definitely a human name.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes, hearing only mockery in that laugh. “Fuck you.” he spat harshly.

The laughter died on the alien’s lips, and in his eyes. His jaw tensed and he uttered, “I forgot for a second what you are, I won’t forget again.” he leaned over to the side of the bed. He grabbed some frayed black cloth, and he slung it at him, “Put that on.” He sneered, “Cover yourself up.”

Bruce grasped the cloth as it hit his chest. He was equal parts relieved to cover up, and annoyed with himself for riling up his only benefactor in this place. He dragged the rough material on; he tied the waist of the pants and then pulled the sleeveless t-shirt style shirt over his head. As he straightened it, one of Zod’s serfs came and lifted the fabric at the doorway, and relayed, “The General wants to see you right now, Kal-El.”

Kal-El grimaced at the message, but he nodded along. The messenger left. He got off the bed, and walked past Bruce. At the doorway, he turned back and told him, “You can walk around freely, but if you try to leave the compound, you will be hunted down. Being my pet won’t save you.”

Then he continued on his way.

~*~

Bruce waited for a while, he knew what Kal-El had told him, yet he hesitated to test that freedom. It would be a gift to his mission to be able to go out there and mingle freely. There again, he couldn’t exactly mooch up to these aliens and randomly ask, ‘Do you know what happened to Clark Kent?’ He could that tell these prisoners were suspicious, as every prisoner in the universe was suspicious; they lived, worked, fought, and breathed amongst liars, thieves, and killers. It would make anyone paranoid. 

The one person he knew one hundred per cent would know Clark’s fate was General Zod himself, yet to ask him would be the same as placing a noose around his own neck. He remembered his patron’s warning about leaving the compound, trying to escape, he wondered if that’s what had happened to Clark Kent. If he had escaped out into the barren wilderness, could he have survived his wound? On the slim chance that he had, how was Bruce supposed to find him out there? 

Maybe the Blur’s friends had been right after all maybe it was futile. Yet the one thing he did know was that he was here now for better or worse, and he had a mission. He had to cover all ground in the compound. He knew at some point that he would have to escape, either to search that wilderness, or to return to the portal site in the hope that he could open it to return to Earth.

He finally decided to test Kal-El’s word. He lifted the cloth and he stepped out. 

~*~

He chose a direction, trying to take in his surroundings, storing the information away for when he made his bid for freedom. He wandered through, finding the doorway into another chamber on the other side of the large space between tent-like structures. He knew he was pushing his luck, knew he would probably be stopped before he got to where he was trying to get to. Surveillance was his game, gaining as much Intel as you could was always the best way of going about things, best way of pulling together a plan. 

If he could overhear or discover anything useful, it would be tremendously helpful. 

As he entered, he heard voices not raised but not happy either, the first thing he saw a bed, curtained like a four-poster on Earth, he circled around it to see the rest of the room, and as he drew near he saw the big three, Zod was sitting in another throne like chair but this one was smaller. In front of him, Kal-El was standing with his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Ursa stood next to him, she was speaking, imploring yet there was a hard edge of a demand in her tone, “I did not question your judgement, my lord, and you know I would not.”

“Yet you did my dear, I said the human would fight in the arena.” Zod replied calmly as if talking to a child.

“You also told him to take off his mask, yet his words – she motioned with her head towards Kal-El – swayed you but you ignore my words though I have only ever been loyal to you.” 

Kal-El’s frame was filled with tension, as he sneered sideways, “You never know when to hold your tongue. You make demands, not ask.”

Ursa faced Kal-El straight on and spat vehemently, “I hate you.”

The younger alien narrowed his eyes, “You hate everyone.” 

“Now-now children, let us not forget why we are gathered here.”

The other two dragged their gazes away from each other and met their lord’s eyes. The hard faced female’s tough exterior crumbled as she implored again, “My lord, it is depravity, any other punishment please.”

“Other punishments, other tortures are nothing to you Ursa, like a stream over a pebble.”

Bowed, Kal-El’s head hung heavily but he remained silent.

Then Zod asked, “Are you going to accept your punishment Ursa?”

Through gritted teeth she replied, “Yes General.”

Though he didn’t know the punishment, Bruce could feel the tension in the air. 

Then Zod ordered, “Do it.”

Kal-El’s lips twisted in disgust, and then suddenly he reached for, and grasped Ursa by the arms and dragged her to him. He sneered in her face, “You’ve got a big mouth, I always have to be penalised to punish you.”

Ursa snarled back, “I hate you.”

“I know.” He uttered before he kissed her full on the lips.

Her lips were tight and unyielding against his, as he walked her backwards until her legs met the flat surface of a dark crystal plinth. With his strength and size, it was ridiculously easy to lift her and lay her over it. Then as Zod watched on, Kal-El found the edge of Ursa’s clothes, and spread the black material. Kal-El released her from the kiss, and locked gazes with the panting wide-eyed Ursa, he held her gaze, and he backed up, his mouth and his breath caressing her bared breasts, her nipples peaked in response, over her taut stomach, and hovered over her mound. The dark cruel eyed woman continued to pant while holding Kal-El’s gaze. 

Kal-El uttered, “Ursa.”

Ursa licked her lips, and spread her thighs.

Then still holding her gaze Kal-El swiped at her with his tongue. Ursa’s breath hitched, and she murmured, “I hate you.”

“I hate you too.” Kal-El answered.

Then Kal-El covered her with his mouth. He was skilful and eager, and if it weren’t for their confessed hatred of each other, Bruce would think he wanted it. He grasped and spread her legs further, his focus quick and intent. From Ursa’s still endurance, came finally soft breaths, and then her hands lifted from her sides, and her hands cupped Kal-El’s head and her fingers threaded through his black tousled hair. Her knees raised and whimpers of tormented pleasure left her lips. 

Zod looked smugly on; his perverse pleasure from forcing this onto his two favourites was clearly on his face. He uttered, “You have your positions at my side but always remember, I am the power, and I am in charge. You know this; however, you continue to make me remind you that you are weak against my will.”

Suddenly, Ursa arched against Kal-El’s mouth and cried, “Yes General.” 

And as her body shook, Kal-El lifted his mouth from her. He stood up straight, and met his lord’s gaze. Zod smirked and then stood up from his throne and approached. He leaned in and Kal-El met him halfway, and Zod kissed Ursa’s feminine juices from his lips. Slowly, Zod pulled back, and then uttered, “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

The young alien gave him a tight lipped smile and reminded, “I can’t tonight. I have to make sure my new pet is settled in and knows the rules.”

Zod nodded slowly accepting his words, “You can leave now.”

Kal-El bowed slightly, “Yes General.”

Then he turned away. Bruce saw him glance at Ursa but couldn’t read the look on his face. 

Then he headed for the doorway. Bruce didn’t have time to get out, and as he approached the flap to the chamber, Kal-El saw him there, his patron breathed through his nose, and without saying a word of rebuke for his presence there, he just roughly grasped Bruce’s arm and forced him out of Zod’s chamber.

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Conviction 3/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,851  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce spends his first night in the Phantom Zone.

~*~

As they re-entered Kal-El’s chamber, his arm was finally released from his tight grip, and his patron paced away from him. He lifted a cloth, revealing a wooden cask underneath. He opened it, stuck his hand in, and scooped out some water. He swilled his face, and then supped up some into his mouth and then sighed as he swallowed it.

Bruce watched him. He understood the need to freshen up after what just happened. His gaze lingered on the alien’s moist kiss bruised lips. Kal-El turned and caught him looking. He breathed roughly and then said, “I guess it’s been a while since you drank something huh.”

He realised his alien patron had misread his focus. But his question readily became his focus, he nodded, only now realising how thirsty he was. 

Kal-El blinked slowly, with an almost sympathetic look in his eyes. 

He motioned to his personal supply of water, “Have some, but try to be sparing, it’s hard to come by.”

Bruce was grateful for the kindness, knowing in a place like this it would be so easy to hoard what you had. He didn’t voice his thanks though, didn’t want to show weakness, but he approached the cask of water. Seeing no scoop or appliance, he dipped both hands in, and brought them to his mouth and lapped it up. The water was like nectar from the gods, and he had only been here a day, he considered what it tasted like to the convicts here. It made him feel even more thankful for Kal-El’s generosity.

When the water was gone, he used the dampness left on his hands to moisten his face. He knew with water in short supply washing was going to be almost impossible. When he glanced around, he found the alien lieutenant observing him intently. Bruce found himself compelled to say what he hadn’t before, “Thank you.”

Then Kal-El swallowed hard and told him, “Keep in line, and I’ll make sure you have what you need.”

He felt like saying thank you again but he restrained himself. Instead, he reminded him, “I said I’d be your flunky didn’t I?”

The handsome alien raised an eyebrow, and then he uttered with an upturned lip, “Pet.”

Bruce bristled, and questioned, “Like a dog?”

Kal-El smirked, and said almost playfully, “I like dogs.”

Damn, he didn’t know which was worse flunky or dog. He said roughly, “And where does the dog sleep?”

He was reprimanded. “Being impertinent around here just rubs people the wrong way.” 

“As that woman Ursa found out tonight.” he fired back.

Kal-El glowered at the mention of the incident minutes earlier. “Ursa knows where she stands, but pushes Zod anyway.”

Bruce muttered, “And you don’t push him at all.” 

“I’ve seen his own woman’s pregnant lifeless body, dead by his own hands. To survive here you have to play by the rules, his rules. You will learn that.” He was told.

He caught and chided himself. He knew there were rules, there were always rules in every situation in life, how you talked, walked, how you behaved in different society, what others expected of you. It was only this Kal-El’s indulgence that let him forget. For a second, expecting this alien convict to have the same scruples as himself. Kal-El was still watching him with a harsh gaze. Bruce swallowed hard, and uttered, “I’m sorry Kal-El I overstepped my place.”

“Forget it.” He muttered. Then he pointed to a space at the side of the bed, “You can sleep here or…” His gaze found the rough sloppy mattress that was his bed. 

Bruce followed his gaze. He knew this was it; this was the moment when he was going to find out what was expected of him. He waited on edge not even knowing what his own reaction to the answer was going to be. 

Finally, Kal-El swallowed hard, and then he cleared his throat, his eyes became mocking, “You can be an Earth dog and curl up at the end of my bed.”

His mind spun at the different reactions trying to come to the surface. There was relief that there were no sexual demands, slight chagrin that there weren’t any of the sexual demands that he had been expecting. There was annoyance at being called a dog again. Also, there was the practical logistics of sleeping on the gritty draft ridden ground, or sleeping on a more comfortable mattress even if it was just across the width of the bed. 

“Well?” Kal-El demanded.

Bruce smiled harshly, and then muttered sarcastically, “Just call me Fido.”

Suddenly a burst of laughter left Kal-El’s lips. The sound not only shocked him because of the suddenness of it, and the fact he got the joke but because Bruce found he liked the sound of it very much; it was a really great laugh. He saw his surprise, and the alien shrugged and said by way of an explanation, “It’s been a long time.” He sighed, “Damn if only you weren’t what you are.”

If only you weren’t an Earth dog, is what Bruce took the implication to be. He guessed if humans could fear and hate aliens, it was only fair that aliens could hate humans too. 

~*~ 

After being left alone for a few minutes, his master returned carrying something wrapped in a cloth. Bruce’s mouth instantly started watering at the smell. Kal-El seated himself on the mattress, and then carefully revealed the contents. It wasn’t much but the sight of food had his full attention. As he licked his lips, he saw Kal-El was watching him. He sucked in some air through his nose, and waited. Kal-El smiled wryly, “I see that you’re house-trained Rover.”

“As you said before I learn fast.”

Kal-El nodded, and then he motioned to the yellow looking meat, “Go on have some.”

He didn’t need any more persuading, he approach, glanced at the bed, and took a gamble bearing in mind where he was going to be sleeping tonight. He sat down on the end of the bed. He reached out and took one piece of the meat. He studied it and asked, “What is this?”

“I doubt you’d want to know.”

“Tell me anyway.” He said taking a bite.

Kal-El took a piece for himself, and explained, “The Phantom Zone is almost completely barren. It originally was only meant to hold the Phantoms.”

Acting oblivious, he asked, “You mean those things out there in that waste land?”

“Yes, they act as perimeter guards for Zod.”

“They were criminals too weren’t they?” he asked in between chews of sinewy meat.

“Yes, so dangerous that their bodies were stripped from them. Anyway, the phantoms don’t need food. However as time went on other criminals were sent here, from other planets, ones that were corporeal. I suppose the hardship here was part of the punishment.”

He asked wryly, “So where did the meat come from, I’m not eating that man mountain that I fought before am I?”

Kal-El’s eyes widened slightly, and then he pursed his lips, “We might be savages here, but we’re not cannibals yet.”

He smiled around the chunk in his mouth, “Humanoids yes, but they are a different species so maybe it doesn’t count as cannibalism.”

The handsome alien chuckled lightly, “We’re a different species; does that mean you’d eat me?”

Bruce froze in his tracks at the unintentional innuendo; the meat lay still on his tongue for a moment. Kal-El’s eyes widened before a glint of mischief shined there, and he licked his lips reflexively. Bruce cleared his throat and began chewing again. He said brashly but with a serious undertone, “Yes I would if it meant surviving in this place.”

Kal-El stared at him, and Bruce wasn’t sure if the alien had understood the underlying meaning of that statement. Then Kal-El cleared his own throat and admitted roughly, “Yeah I can understand that.”

He held his gaze, and Kal-El glanced away with a touch of what looked like shame in his eyes. 

Bruce began to realise there was more to Kal-El than being General Zod’s favourite, and lieutenant. Prison was a dangerous place to push someone, so he returned to the subject at hand. He reached for another piece of meat, “So it’s not the prisoners?”

The alien appeared relieved to change the subject, “Um that’s right, sometimes when the portal would open, other things got in as well.” Bruce frowned, and Kal-El looked amused, “Like insects.”

He frowned even more, “This…” he chewed the chunk of meat, “…isn’t an insect.”

“You only have the concept of what an insect on Earth is like. On other planets, some grow to be huge.”

“Huge?”

“Huh-huh we have to hunt them. That’s what that patrol was doing when they came across you with the phantoms out there in the wilderness.”

“Well I’m glad they found me then.”

Kal-El nodded, “So am I.” 

As Bruce continued to eat the strange meat, Kal-El slouched down so he was propped up on his elbow as he lay on his side on his bed. He bit off small pieces and chewed the meat slowly; all the while, the alien lieutenant watched Bruce’s moving lips. He started to feel uneasy with the other male watching his mouth so intently. He licked his lips and pretended to ignore the attention.

Then Kal-El murmured, “When was the last time you ate?”

Bruce frowned at the question, but he answered, “Last night, I guess, I missed breakfast this morning.”

He saw Kal-El’s chest heave and then he asked, “Tell me about it?” Bruce’s brow creased at the question, his patron urged, “What did you have, tell me about it.”

Bruce fiddled with the meat in his hand, and then revealed, “Um well it was beef stroganoff.”

Kal-El’s full lips opened, “Oh…”

He watched him close his eyes slowly. Then with his eyes still closed, the alien prisoner asked, “What did you have with it?”

“Creamy potatoes and green beans.” He answered matter-of-factly.

Kal-El let out a little mew in response. 

Hearing the little sound of desperation, Bruce glanced down at the insect meat in his hand, and he felt pity well up inside him for his alien master as he lay there and imagined a good old-fashioned dinner. 

His attention was brought back when Kal-El asked almost huskily, “What about dessert?”

“I don’t eat dessert.” he revealed.

Kal-El opened one eye and stared at him sullenly, “No?”

Bruce smiled, “Sorry.”

~*~

Later he found out things were even stranger here. There didn’t seem to be a nighttime. He’d been here long enough for night to fall but it never came. Eventually, Kal-El had to urge him to get undressed, and get some sleep. As earlier, Kal-El watched him avidly as he removed his ragged clothes. Just as he was about to get in, he saw the threadbare blanket. He thought for a second, and he walked over to where he had left his Batsuit. He took hold of it, and he unclipped the cape. Then he brought it over to the bed.

Kal-El swallowed hard, guessing his intent, but Bruce explained anyway, “I thought it would make a good blanket.”

The alien nodded, and answered a little roughly, “Good idea.”

Bruce motioned with his eyes, and Kal-El took the hint and he got off the bed. Then Bruce spread the cape over the full breadth of the mattress. Then he got in at the end of the bed, across the width as Kal-El had suggested. Kal-El hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged off his black robe-like top, as he did he turned around to lay it down to the side. Bruce watched the movement and flex of the lean muscled body that was revealed, and found himself visually attracted to the dangerous alien criminal. He watched as Kal-El with his back to him toed off his boots, and then reached for and unfastened his pants. Bruce watched them slide down revealing a tight curved ass, and strong thighs, smooth calves… 

He glanced away and gazed at the netlike ceiling, and let out a breath at the unexpected arousal he felt.

He felt the mattress dip, and he glanced to his side and saw Kal-El was now under the cover of makeshift sheets. When Kal-El stretched his long legs out, they met Bruce’s side, accidently almost pushing him off of the end of the bed. He grumbled sullenly, and Kal-El uttered, “Sorry.”

Bruce shook his head against the mattress and muttered, “This is crazy.”

He scooted sideways back into place, and then picked up Kal-El’s feet, and placed them over him, resting on him. 

As they lay there, waiting for sleep to take them, Bruce asked, “Does Ursa ever fight in the arena?”

“No, but sometimes if someone displeases Zod, he lets Ursa torture them for her own pleasure. She’s into that shit.”

He winced internally, and was thankful he was where he was right now, on Kal-El’s good side, meaning he was on Zod’s good side for the time being. 

“So is Ursa Zod’s woman?”

“Yes but it’s more than that, she’s devoted to him.” He revealed. “She hates everyone except him.”

He remembered watching Kal-El and Ursa perform for Zod’s benefit. “She comes for you though.”

Kal-El’s jaw tensed. “I guess she does.”

“But she hates you?”

Kal-El grimaced, and shrugged again, “She’d have killed anyone else by now, so I guess she must hate me less than she hates everyone else.”

“She’s devoted to Zod and she knows you’re following his orders so…” he suggested.

“Maybe.” Kal-El replied thoughtfully.

There was silence for a while, and then he glanced sideways again and saw Kal-El watching him again with those otherworldly eyes. Bruce asked softly, “What?”

Kal-El blinked slowly, and then wondered quietly, “How did you end up here…” he gazed back and didn’t know how to reply, he couldn’t tell him the truth. The alien thought he was a criminal like him. Then Kal-El added, “What was so bad in your life that you came to this?”

He couldn’t tell him, although he found he wanted to, but he couldn’t not answer, so he revealed the truth but kept it purposefully obscure, and let Kal-El make of it what he will. “When I was a kid I saw my parents gunned down in the street.” He heard the alien that he was sharing a bed with curse with sympathy under his breath. “And I decided I wasn’t going to let anyone take anything from me ever again. I was determined to be the baddest, most dangerous motherfucker on the streets, take them, and make them my own.”

Kal-El sighed, “I guess you managed it, bad enough to be sent here.”

“I was trying to track someone down in Metropolis just before I was sent here.”

“So there are some do-gooders still hanging around Metropolis then.” He asked.

He revealed, “Not as many as there used to be, but they’re still about.”

Kal-El sighed again and looked at the ceiling.

Even though he was here on a different mission, he found himself curious about his bed-mate. So he asked, “What about you, how did you end up as Zod’s right hand man?”

He saw the handsome alien grimace at the ceiling, “My father knew him back on our planet.”

“The scientist you said?”

“Yes. They were friends. Then Zod tried to overthrow the council of Elders and… it set off a series of events, Zod and his people were sent here to the Zone, and my mother and father were killed.”

Bruce blew out a breath, “So we have something in common then.”

“I sometimes wonder what might’ve been if it had never happened, what my life would’ve been like.”

He admitted to this man, because admitting it to him would make no difference in his real life, “Sometimes I do too… a life of obliviousness, a life without crime or danger, only seeing that kind of thing on the evening news in another part of the world, believing it wasn’t my business.”

Kal-El smirked at the ceiling, “I don’t think I could, I’ve always found myself drawn to danger, it’s like a whisper in my ear, telling me to go and put myself right into the middle of it.”

“It is a rush.” Bruce concurred. 

They gazed at each other, and then Kal-El turned away and uttered, “Try to get some sleep.”

Although, he had experience sleeping during the day because of his nightly patrol, it was different here, no curtains to block out the daylight. There was also the bonus of feeling protected within the boundaries of Wayne Manor. He breathed some deep breaths to try to relax, and let his body know to go to sleep, after being on guard all day. He closed his eyes against the light and let sleep take him.

 

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Conviction 4/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,660  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce tries to make progress and fulfil his mission, and in the process gets to know Kal-El a little better. 

~*~

The following morning, or at least he assumed it was the morning, he awoke to find himself alone, but it wasn’t for long. As he sat up, his own black cape pooling around his waist, his alien master entered the chamber. “You’re awake, good.”

He smacked his dry lips together, however before he could ask, Kal-El uncovered the cask of water, he dipped his hands in, and he brought water to him. Bruce glanced up at him, before bowing his head, and lapping up the water offered to him. If it wasn’t for his thirst, he might’ve been annoyed by the action. When the water was gone, Kal-El copied Bruce’s actions from the day before and he ran his damp hands over Bruce’s face to refresh him. 

His hands were gentle, too gentle for a place like this, and Bruce’s own hands jumped up to cover Kal-El’s and he murmured, “It’s okay, don’t…”

There was silence, and he raised his face, and met his unfathomably caring eyes. “I was just trying to help.” He uttered.

“I know but…” he trailed off.

It was hard to explain, twice he’d allowed his alien master to touch him, but that was over his Batsuit, protected by the armour in more ways than one. He hadn’t been able to feel the gentleness that he just felt, the touch of skin, too intimate for a place like this.

Carefully, Kal-El pulled his hands away. 

Although, he didn’t want to be here any longer that he had to be, he wondered, “What does everyone do here all day?”

Kal-El took a couple of steps back, and revealed casually, “Hunting, a lot of the men train, and spar, sleep, some of the men have women, and some of the population trade for favours…”

“Prostitutes?” he asked.

Kal-El shrugged, “I don’t judge.”

He couldn’t really judge either. He returned to the previous subject. “So you were saying about activities…?”

“Yeah, anyway, when it gets really boring Zod opens the arena.” He explained.

“So what are we doing today, when will I have to fight again?” he wondered aloud.

“I don’t know it’s up to the General, but today we’ll go out and collect some water.”

Bruce nodded internally. Going outside the compound, he might be able to figure out if Clark Kent, the reason he was here had escaped into the wilderness. However the mention of water, gave him the urge to relieve himself, and he said in keeping with his surrounding, “Man, I could do with a piss.”

His master nodded along, “There’s two separate places, you know one for either.” He held his gaze expectantly, and then his master sighed, “Come on, when you’re dressed I’ll show you.” 

When he was done getting dressed, he gratefully followed him outside.

~*~

When they returned to the chamber, Kal-El turned and picked up a larger piece of black ragged cloth. He said, “Put this on too, the sand and the wind get really bad outside the compound.

After he’d got it on, he realised Kal-El had disappeared. So he decided to set off and look for him, it would be a good reason to explore the compound some more.

As he wandered, he entered into a covered ‘exercise yard’. The other inmates were hanging around in clusters, talking, jeering, and generally waiting for the next interesting thing to happen. A few glanced his way, at first with mistrust seeing a stranger, he saw some glance to the doorway, then he saw recognition in their eyes, realising who the stranger would be coming in from the direction of Kal-El’s room. They nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to their buddies to share their thoughts. 

As Bruce moved past the ones nearest the doorway, one said, “Good fight yesterday.”

Another asked, “When’s your next fight?”

He shrugged, “Got to see what the boss man says.”

The guy nodded, “I’ll put a wager on you.”

The guy seemed friendly enough for a convict. Bruce stood at ease, and he drawled, “So man, tell me how many monsters do I have to put down before I get some reward huh?”

Another convict standing near leaned in, “Rewards in here, are some extra meat or water.”

“Shit is that all?” he scoffed.

“Being Kal-El’s man you might get more.” The guy suggested.

He saw a look pass between them. Then a burly type scorned, “I bet he’s already getting something extra.”

“Great.” He muttered under his breath. it looked as though the gossip had already started. The convicts continued to stare at him, so he shrugged it off, and deflected the jibe. “So you telling me there’s no pussy here?”

The alien convicts looked confused. He clarified, “You know some ladies ready for some loving. I saw that Ursa, bitch looked like she wanted to cut my balls off.”

The guys laughed hoarsely in response.

“We heard you’re from a place called Earth, place nice?” another asked.

He chuckled roughly, “Man I thought it was a shit hole until I got here. You’ve never been to Earth?”

They shook their heads, then one replied, “They say the General has, and Kal-El, some more in the past but they’re dead now.”

He knew Zod and his followers had been to Earth, it wasn’t surprising Kal-El would be one of them. On guard, hoping not to push too hard, he asked, “How did they die?”

“I didn’t see it but I heard Nam-Ek and others died when they went up against Kal-El.” One revealed.

Another one added, “Don’t forget Gon’s brother, when they had that jail break, they say Kal-El hunted them all down.”

Something in Bruce’s chest clenched, damn it, somehow he had sworn his fealty to the very alien bastard that may have killed the Blur. Little wonder that he had become Zod’s favourite. 

He smirked along, “Looks like I did alright, aligning with that mean son of a bitch then.” and then he asked, “So where are the top dogs right now?”

They pointed in the direction, “Probably Zod’s chamber.”

Bruce nodded along.

Just then he saw his master enter the exercise yard, Kal-El caught his eye, and then motioned with his head. Bruce glanced around at the other prisoners and then said wryly, “My master calls.”

They chuckled in response and then Bruce set off and approached him.

~*~

They walked alone, amongst the sand dunes and the rocky cliffs, he was thankful for the head and face covering that he had been given as the sand swirled. They travelled to a place to find water, carrying a water skin each. It seemed miles, and he was thankful for his fitness and stamina. They came to a dark and murky river, and Bruce winced at the seemingly polluted water. 

“This isn’t what’s inside that cask in your chamber.” He commented.

Through the small gap in his head covering, Kal-El’s aquamarine eyes squinted at him with amusement. Then he said, “Do you think I can trust you?”

The idea of trust in a place this made him scoff internally. Was it possible for there to be trust when he was lying to him, keeping secrets from him. They were lies of necessity, but he’d vowed his loyalty and that meant something to Bruce. He wouldn’t betray him, unless Kal-El proved that he wasn’t worth that loyalty. He nodded and said seriously, “Yes you can trust me.”

Kal-El’s eyes crinkled at the edges, “I said you were smart.” He uttered wryly, “Come on.” then he led him further on passed some rocks, into a small valley in the landscape. There he saw a small channel had been cut into the river bank, they followed it a ways, then it opened out, and the water flowed over pebbles and gravel, acting as a filter until the clean water gathered in a walled in pit. They were out of the twirling sand now, and Kal-El lowered his veil, so Bruce took the cue and removed his own face covering.

Impressed, he glanced from the small reservoir and back at Kal-El and asked, “You built this?”

“Yes, my dad taught me.” Kal-El revealed with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Your dad the scientist, I guess he would know.” He commented.

The alien blinked rapidly and then swallowed hard and turned away. Bruce understood completely what this man was feeling, “You still miss him?”

His companion turned and glanced his way and admitted with a touch of melancholy, “Yeah every day.”

Bruce nodded with sympathy, and urged, “Come on let’s get this water.”

Kal-El led him over to the pit. He crouched down. He moved some rocks and revealed what looked like a bamboo fashioned pipe coming out the edge of the pit. He uncorked it, then he leaned over and he sucked on the end until he got the water flowing up the pipe and put one of the water skins they’d brought with them under the small trickle of clean water. Bruce sat down on rocky outcrop nearby and asked, “Is this how fast it goes?”

His alien companion nodded, “It’s slow, but it’s better than rushing it.”

Kal-El let himself slump backwards so he was sitting on the ground, still holding onto the water skin. They were both quiet, and the oppressive atmosphere began to sink into Bruce’s skin. He glanced at the water and wished he could find relief and sink into the water pit. He knew it would be stupid to contaminate the clean water, not that his master would allow it anyway.

At his soft groan, his master looked at him, he saw something not quite readable in his eyes or maybe Bruce didn’t want to understand and then Kal-El glanced away, his eyes returning to the water. Bruce breathed deeply and then his gaze searched the landscape, his mind returning to his mission.

From what he’d seen outside the compound, it would be almost impossible for the Red-Blue Blur to have survived, especially mortally wounded as he could’ve been. He wouldn’t have been strong enough to hunt for food. If he had gotten to that toxic looking river, he would’ve been too weak to fight off any viruses or infections. He might have had a chance if he’d found Kal-El’s reservoir, but that was doubtful, it was well hidden. Bruce wanted to be sure though, if he could just get confirmation, someone to tell the story of that time period eleven months ago. He could imagine it being an unusual occurrence something that would stand out in everyone’s mind, something that broke up the boredom. 

Within the last day, he felt that his first impression had been justified; Kal-El was the way to find that information. He was at Zod’s side, he would know what happen, and he just had to find a way to broach the subject without putting the alien lieutenant on alert. It was a new experience for him; interrogation was a handy skill to use during his life mission but he had to be more subtle here. He knew when he made a break for it, he had one chance of escape, and that would be that. He’d lost track of the portal site when entering, so he knew he needed time to find it, without a posse after him. 

Bruce revealed casually, “I’ve had to rough it sometimes but this is something else entirely.”

Kal-El nodded, “I know what you mean. It really makes you appreciate what you’ve taken for granted before.”

Interestedly, always the detective, Bruce asked, “Tell me about your home world, Krypton.”

His alien master’s brow creased minutely, and then he sighed softly, “Um well Krypton was very different from Earth, we had technology that humans have only ever seen in movies.”

“You watched movies while you were on Earth?” he asked a little surprised.

Kal-El nodded, “When I wasn’t too busy.” He smiled, and then continued, “So you’ve seen the crystal outcrops there about…?”

He nodded.

“…well, there were whole buildings and cities made from crystals like that, big awe inspiring structures.”

“Wow.” He uttered sincerely.

“Yeah… Rao our star was red, and it dappled the crystals and made the landscapes beautiful with diffused light, there was the Jewel Mountains and…” his eyes widened, and Kal-El nodded, “Yeah real jewels, there is so much that humans put value on that were just things, pretty things but still just things on my world. Knowledge and discovery became more important than possessions, and base desires.”

“Sounds idyllic.” He commented.

“In some ways, but we still had problems, still had wars, we still had people who were power hungry, people that wanted to change things to the detriment of society.”

“Like the General and his followers.” The suggestion slipped from his lips before he could censor himself.

His master’s lips tightened and Bruce hoped Kal-El hadn’t taken that as a personal insult. Then Kal-El huffed, “Yeah exactly, things never end well when you get caught up with Zod.”

Bruce didn’t want to push too hard. He let silence take over. He lifted his arm and wiped the stickiness of humidity from his forehead with his forearm.

Then Kal-El uttered, “Why don’t you take off your shirt.” 

“It’s not sunbathing weather.” He returned lightly.

His master shook his head, and he said, “It’s better if you can pretend that you’re somewhere else.” Bruce frowned, and Kal-El chuckled, “Mind over matter. Close your eyes and pretend that you’re in a sauna. Then the humidity is bearable.”

He sighed, “Saunas aren’t really my thing.”

“I guess not with where you’re from.” He knew Kal-El thought he was a thug from the rough streets. Then he suggested, “Okay imagine somewhere you’d like to be.” 

He leaned back on his elbows and did as Kal-El had suggested. He closed his eyes, and let his imagination take over. He drifted off, and he smiled and hummed. His companion asked, “Where are you?”

He smiled, and revealed, “We’re on a yacht in the middle of the Caribbean sea. We’re lying on deck; it’s so hot that my butler brings out some drinks.” 

“Butler?”

It was a daydream of a street thug, so he didn’t try to excuse the idea. He said, “That’s right.” He laughed softly, “I can hear the ice chinking the glasses.” He hummed, “I can smell the sun lotion. The sun is beating down, and our bodies are becoming golden.”

He heard Kal-El moan softly, before he asked, “I’m there with you?”

At the question, Bruce opened his eyes and saw Kal-El watching him intently. He swallowed hard. He said, “I guess I’m not that good at pretending, I couldn’t imagine you not being there… He stopped and cleared his throat. Then he asked, “What do you pretend?”

Kal-El blinked, and he scooted closer to the water's edge, before he answered his question, he swapped one skin for the other. Then Kal-El sighed gently, “I come here and I imagine that this is another waterway, where that’s fish in the water, and lush grass on the banks. The sun shines across the flowing water. It’s so hot that we are taking a break and we've just finished our pack up lunch that we brought with us. 

Bruce watched as Kal-El gazed at the water, lost in his own world, he knew he wasn’t imagining Bruce there, and he wondered who his companion was and then Kal-El began humming, “Um-um-um, uh-uh um-a-um, a-ummm…” 

Bruce gazed at the alien lieutenant for a long moment until he realised that he knew the tune, and then he sang softly, “Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.”

He turned and his otherworldly eyes smiled at him.

 

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE: Conviction 5/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,600  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce has to fight in the arena again. 

~*~

Bruce and Kal-El arrived back at Zod’s compound, carrying full water-skins. He saw others coming back too, with makeshift buckets only half full. Bruce saw inside one and saw the murky water from the river in there. He leaned in and uttered to Kal-El, “You haven’t shown them how to purify the water?”

Kal-El’s eyes narrowed, “Most were too bull-headed to listen to me at first, and then I realised I needed this advantage to survive.”

He could understand the notion but it didn’t sit well with Bruce. You make the world better by changing people’s attitudes, showing them that they had to stand together, not that that philosophy worked in Gotham and maybe that way of thinking was too idealistic in a place like this too. Kindness is seen as a weakness, good people seen as weak, except there were no good people here. Well there had been one, but it was becoming disappointingly obvious that Clark Kent was dead, and Batman really had wasted his time coming here looking for a hero.

It was strange to think that one of the aliens that had caused the death of an Earth hero, could take a liking to Earth culture so much that he would memorize a simple Earth tune, and use it to give him comfort in a place like this. Yet, he seemed to be worth more than those others were including Zod and Ursa. Bruce had seen a spark of kindness in his interactions with him. He remembered how Kal-El’s eyes had devoured him yesterday, maybe that was what it was, kindness borne out of desire to ingratiate himself with him. Bruce could understand that. He was being on his best behaviour too, though he had a better reason than sexual attraction.

They entered Kal-El’s chamber. They removed their head coverings. Then Kal-El opened the cask, and then poured the clean filtered water they had collected into it. When he was done, Bruce offered the one that he carried, and then Kal-El did the same. It was a strange experience knowing this simple cask of water was so valued that it couldn’t be shared, yet as Kal-El’s pet; to have some sort of affection from him meant he got to share it. It made him wonder something, and he asked, “Do you share this water with General Zod and Ursa?”

“No.” was the straightforward answer.

He must’ve seen something on Bruce’s face because he added, “The General and Ursa have a private well, that they had dug.”

Bruce nodded, but still confused, he wondered, “I’d have thought you’d have a share of that.”

Kal-El just held his gaze mutely.

Bruce didn’t push for anything more. He took a seat on the bed. Someone opened the flap, and told Kal-El, “The General said he wants you in his chamber, something about your human.”

“Right now.” His alien master replied clearly on edge.

The convict shrugged, and closed the flap.

Kal-El turned to him and met his gaze with wariness in his eyes, and said, “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll get us something to eat on the way back.”

~*~

After a while, Bruce realised he’d been gone longer than a minute. He considered going to find him. He also considered taking a drink from the cask to tide him over until it was time to have some food again. What would Kal-El do if he caught him taking it without permission? The fabric at the doorway moved aside and someone entered but it wasn’t his master. One of the prisoners handed him a small bundle of cloth, that Bruce knew contained meat. He asked, “Where’s Kal-El?”

He saw the convict’s eyes roam covetously around the room before his eyes returned to Bruce, “The General called for him, so he told me to bring you this.”

He nodded his understanding, and said, “Thank you.”

“Can’t be turning down an order from Kal-El.” he grumbled with a smirk.

“I guess not.” he said.

The prisoner left, and Bruce opened his bundle of meat.

He was hungry. He knew how often they had food, once a day. He could imagine that the convicts out there picked anything to the bone or shell as it were. He bit his lip as he contemplated the four small pieces of meat. He would be leaving soon, back to a life of luxury, he could hold out a while. He chose the two smallest pieces, wrapped the two larger ones up, and saved them for Kal-El. 

When his master did return, striding in. Bruce informed him lightly, “I saved you some meat.”

Kal-El’s eyes darted to him, and he almost glowered, “That was for you!”

He breathed slowly. He didn’t know how to respond to the gruff but considerate response. Then finally he asked, “What’s the matter, what did Zod want?”

He saw the look in his master’s eyes and he knew, “It’s another fight huh?”

His master appeared simmering, controlled anger. He told him, “Yes, Zod has set you another fight already… today.”

“So I’ll fight, I can hold my own.” Bruce shrugged.

Kal-El winced, “I don’t think you can.”

“That before was nothing.” He said pridefully.

“Yes it was nothing; you didn’t give them what they wanted.” he was told.

“What they wanted, you wanted it too?” He assumed.

Kal-El tensed his jaw, “She was going to have him blow your head off. I guessed from your armour you could take care of yourself, but it was supposed to be a fight to the death, that’s what’s expected.”

He said seriously, “I’m not murdering anyone.”

There was strain in Kal-El’s voice as he told him, “You don’t understand, the man you fought before was a gluttonous but ordinary Kryptonian, he wasn’t trained.”

“So this guy today is trained, I’ve been trained myself Kal-El, by the best on Earth.”

Kal-El deplored him to understand, “This place was built by Kryptonians, and we have no powers. I have no powers. But that thing, that alien that Zod wants you to fight isn’t Kryptonian, it isn’t human, it’s strong and tough even here, Gon loves killing it’s what he lives for and he will kill you with no remorse.”

“Gon isn’t that… those guys out there told me you hunted down Gon’s brother.”

Kal tensed his jaw, “That’s right. I think that’s why Gon volunteered to be you final opponent.”

He swallowed hard at the word ‘final’. A part of him thought arrogantly, that if Kal-El could defeat this guy’s brother, Bruce could beat this guy. However, he took the words of a fighter who knew the opponent seriously. It would be stupid to ignore such a sincere warning. He ran his hand through his hair, and then he asked exasperated, “So Zod wants me dead, what happened to being your pet.”

Kal-El mirrored him, swallowed hard, and revealed, “He knows about us.”

Bruce was dumbfounded, “Us.”

“This morning when you were asleep a messenger came, he saw us in bed, and he ratted us out to Zod. That’s what I had to see the General about when he sent for me.”

This was crazy, “We slept in a bed, that’s it.”

The alien lieutenant cringed, “Pet… pet… how many people let their dog sleep in the bed under the covers?”

He nodded, “So he literary thinks humans are animals, and can’t share…”

He explained, “He thinks he’s above humans but not to that extent, it’s me… it’s my fault I agreed you were my pet that’s what made it worse. Now he thinks I was just trying to protect you.”

Bruce watched him, studied everything about him, he stepped closer and uttered, “You were, weren’t you… protecting me.” Kal-El bowed his head, and Bruce leaned in closer, “Why?”

Kal-El winced, and he reached out and caressed his cheek with his thumb tenderly. 

It was an unexpected show of affection, it made Bruce nervous, and he pulled gently away. Then he got back to business, “Am I allowed my armour to wear during the fight?”

Kal-El dropped his arm to his side, and told him, “The armour, and the boots, but not your mask or your belt.” 

Shit. He cursed inwardly. He couldn’t escape without the contents of that belt. If the fight went so badly, that he had to abort his mission there was no way to escape. He sighed in defeat. He was going to have to fight this tough alien, and deal with the outcome. 

~*~

His alien master walked with him to the arena, past all in the convicted audience. In the centre, Kal-El turned and nodded to him. Bruce remembered yesterday, he wanted to show his respect but without antagonising Zod anymore than they had. He lowered himself to one knee and then the other. Then he bowed his head and offered his hand. The crowd went nuts, cheering and whooping, and clapping. He felt his hand taken and he looked up and met Kal-El’s gaze. 

He saw esteem, pride, and hint of devotion there in his otherworldly eyes.

He felt unbalanced seeing those feelings there, but he knew he had to be ready for this fight. 

He arose. 

Then Kal-El turned and walked up to the raised platform where Zod’s throne was and he took his place at his right side. 

Then Bruce turned to meet his opponent.

His full view was taken up by a massive chest. Bruce winced internally but kept his face neutral, as he had to raise his face to see the alien’s face. Shit! The man was huge; his biceps were bigger than Bruce’s head, and it had a tattoo on it, a series of unfamiliar geometrical shapes. He glanced over to the raised platform, waiting for the command but also meeting Kal-El’s eyes. He saw in them the phrase, ‘I told you so.’

General Zod announced from his throne, “This fight will be unarmed combat, no weapons.”

Fuck! He really wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not, using a lethal weapon without lethal force made fighting harder, but after his master’s warning, he wished he had something to hit him with, but he had no choice here.

It wasn’t as if he had another option. He turned into a fighting stance, and waited. He uttered, “Come on then Conan.”

The giant alien thug frowned in confusion, but then Zod commanded, “Begin.” And then the giant swung his powerful arm fast, faster than Bruce expected, and his ham sized fist caught him straight across his cheek. 

Bruce went down as if he had a glass jaw. The severe pain was like a spider’s web radiating out from a spot on his jaw, and it made him instinctively curl up on the floor in a fetal position. He held his face as he gritted his teeth against the pain. How the hell had, Kal-El fought this guy’s brother, and won. He felt the shadow of the goliath cast over him, and he knew this brute was fighting a fatal battle. 

All he could think was, he’d failed, failed to find and save Clark Kent, failed Metropolis, failed Gotham, failed the goddamned world, because he was going to die here in this barren friendless place.

Then he heard the command through the haze of pain, “Get up, Bruce get up!”

He struggled, lifted his face from the gritty sand, and met the gaze of the alien lieutenant. He had risen from his chair, and he saw determination and a flash of hope there in his eyes. Kal-El nodded slowly to him, “Get up.”

Like a puppet dragged up by invisible strings, he gathered himself up, and he struggled to his feet. The crowd roared and cheered at his refusal to give in. He saw Zod, not watching him, but watching intently Kal-El, Bruce couldn’t decipher the look on his face. 

Bruce breathed deeply, and wiped his face with his hand. He glanced down and saw no blood, and he was relieved. He slowed his breathing and tried to concentrate, and free his mind and at the same time let the training that had been instinctive kick in. 

The big bruiser came forward and tried to grapple him, and Bruce twisted away knowing he couldn’t let the alien get hold of him, he was too strong, too powerful to be caught in those arms.

He came around looking for weak points, there weren’t many. He held his no murder policy, but knew he couldn’t beat his opponent without getting nasty. Even with all the mad men he had fought since his crime fighting career began he hadn’t had to use the brutality he had been taught. Just by the throbbing in his face, he knew had to put him down fast. There was no way he could trade punches with this beast.

He made his move, a roundhouse kick to the alien’s knee. The beast of a man grimaced but didn’t go down, so Bruce spent the next few minutes keeping out of reach while going for the same knee over and over, until the alien was faltering. Then he did something he knew wasn’t fair play and wouldn’t resort to normally but then again this wasn’t a game, he took aim and brought his knee up hard between the alien’s legs. The beast roared a scream and grabbed his crotch in agony and then he was bowed to Bruce’s level. And then Bruce went in for quick hard jabs and kicks at his throat and his carotid artery until the beast was down and choking for breath.

Bruce stood panting. He placed his booted foot on the giant’s neck. As the day before he made no moved to strike the deathly blow.

Suddenly a harsh feminine voice jeered, “Do it finish him!”

His gaze found the three on the raised platform. Kal-El was seated again but Ursa had risen to her feet now, and was demanding her satisfaction. 

He saw Zod wasn’t looking his way, his eyes were on Kal-El, amusement, and provocation was in his gaze. Kal-El’s eyes were on Zod also, and then he leaned in and whispered in Zod’s ear. The General closed his eyes and he smiled. As Kal-El pulled away, Zod opened them again. Then he ordered, “While the Earth man wins his fights so concisely the law of fatality is lifted.”

There was outrage on Ursa’s face, as she was thwarted again.

Then Zod ordered, “The Earth man is the winner, take Gon out of here, and leave.” His gaze found Ursa, “You too Ursa.”

The dark eyed women sneered and then strutted out of the arena. Bruce stood there watching as the audience left, four of them getting hold of the fallen fighter and dragging him out. 

Bruce watched the two men left in this place. Then Zod called, “You too human unless…”

Kal-El cut him off, “No.” he glanced at Bruce and said haughtily, “Go back to my chamber my pet.” Bruce hesitated for a moment, and his master ordered, “Go on.” 

He bowed and then headed out. 

At the doorway, he paused as he heard Zod command silkily, “Now Kal-El, kneel before Zod.”

Something twisted inside Bruce as he heard those words. His jaw tightened and it made his face throb even more. As he heard Kal-El rise from his chair, Bruce reached up and rubbed his hurt face, and continued out the doorway.

 

To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

TITLE: Conviction 6/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,800  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce struggles with his feelings for his alien master. Kal-El and Bruce have a tense confrontation.

~*~

Bruce returned to Kal-El’s chamber as instructed, he removed the Batsuit, and redressed in the ragged clothes that his master had given to him. He waited for Kal-El to return from the arena, where Bruce had left him with General Zod. He tried to stay still but he felt wound tight, and tighter with every minute that Kal-El wasn’t back in this room. He paced out his frustration in the small space.

He had seen the look in Zod’s eyes, and he had heard the tone of his voice as he had told Kal-El to kneel before him. His mind was going to dark places filled with anger, and hatred of Kal-El’s allegiance to Zod and what he was willing to do to show that allegiance. Jealousy from somewhere deep inside, ridiculous jealousy because he didn’t belong here, he didn’t belong in the middle of Kal-El and Zod’s twisted affection, yet he had actually felt something for his alien master. 

When Kal-El returned, he strode in past Bruce and went straight to the water cask and swilled his face, and drank down some water. As Bruce watched him, the little niggle of annoyance came to the surface and he scorned, “I guess you celebrated my win without me.”

Kal-El wiped his damp face with his bare arm, and then stared at him. Then a little crease came to his brow, and he reached out and caressed Bruce’s bruised face with his thumb, he winced, “Oh your poor face.”

Bruce knocked his hand away, saying churlishly, “I suppose you don’t have to worry about bruises when you don’t have to fight.” His alien master clenched his bearded jaw in response to his words. Bruce tilted his head and smiled contemptuously, “Being the prettiest boy in here has its uses in a place like this huh?”

Kal-El's face dropped, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, then he let out a little bark of air. His lip rose in derision, then he turned away, and Bruce heard him uttered under his breath, “I thought you’d learned your lesson.”

He scoffed, “Learned my lesson, ha like you…”

His alien master spun around and backhanded him before he could finish the insult. The pain from his already bruised face radiated out again like a sun burst. He stumbled, but the pain from the blow was nothing compared to the fist of the giant alien that he had fought in the arena. His reaction was instinctive, he lunged for Kal-El, and he swept his legs out from under him. He went down with him, then he rained down blows on him, one two three… until Kal-El’s hands came up, and grasped his hands, and forced the next two blows to go wide. It unbalanced him, and then Kal-El turned them over on the ground, and grasped him by his throat.

Pinning him to ground, Kal-El’s face exuded anger. “Damn you, you’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for me!”

Bruce swallowed hard against his tight grip yet he managed to sneer, “I won that fight.”

The alien mutedly looked away, and Bruce took the opportunity, and grabbed him and he turned them over. Kal-El was a big strong guy, and he had some fighting spirit, he knew that his reputation was of death following him in his wake but the move was complete before Kal-El knew what had happened. His alien master gazed up at him wide eyed. He breathed heavily. He licked his lips and asked, “You think that doing this is going to get you anywhere? Turn against me, and Zod won’t tolerate you for long, maybe he’ll let Ursa play with you instead.”

He returned his gaze and saw the cold truth in his eyes and he came to his senses. What the hell was he doing? Kal-El was his patron here; outside this room, life here was hard. He knew Ursa wanted him dead, out there in general population it was dog eat dog, and Zod… well he only seemed concerned with him in relation to Kal-El’s sticking up for him. If he weren’t with Kal-El, Zod would sooner see his death to entertain his flunkies. He cringed, and then let Kal-El up. His alien master stood up but Bruce remained knelt down. He uttered, “Forgive me Kal-El.”

Kal-El gazed down without saying anything at first. And Bruce’s mind returned to the question that had come to him a few times since being here, and he gazed stoically ahead, and asked, “You expect me to show my loyalty, as you did.”

“Are you asking or offering?” he asked roughly.

This was the thing that he had dreaded most, because he didn’t know himself. Maybe it was his own attraction to Kal-El that kept bringing these thoughts to his mind. What he did know was to keep his self-respect he had to stay in control of himself, in control of his own actions and choices. He lifted his hand, and he pressed it against Kal-El’s crotch. He felt his alien master startle for a moment, and he heard him let out a controlled breath, just as his body reflexively pushed up against his palm. He cupped him, and rubbed his thumb against the cloth. Kal-El let out a strangled little noise, and Bruce raised his face and met his eyes. His alien master was gazing down at him with desire tinged with something else, hesitance maybe, anyone else anywhere else he might think it was shyness.

But it couldn’t be shyness, not after what Bruce had seen here. 

He rose from his knees to stand in front of him. Then he reached out again and ran his fingers up over Kal-El’s strong bare arm. Kal-El’s gaze followed the trail up his bare bicep, and he breathed slowly. His fingers continued to his jaw, and then Kal-El turned slowly to face him again. He gazed at him with heavy lidded eyes. Bruce leaned in, and he murmured, “Whatever you want from me Kal-El.”

Full lips pressed together with hesitance, and then parted again. His hand came up and gently cupped Bruce’s jaw, he leaned in slowly, and Bruce took a shallow breath. Then he tilted Bruce’s head, and then those full lips latched on to his neck, and sucked, and licked and tasted him. Bruce cried out softly at the shock of the pleasure of his lips on him and he grasped the back of Kal-El's head and held him to him. 

Then he was guided two steps, he was taking two steps back, and they fell against the cape covered mattress.

Then as he lay over him and Kal-El was changing sides and attacking the other side of his neck. His hard body was against his, their groins pressed together, and Bruce’s thighs instinctively spread to accommodate the other man’s body between them. His master groaned, as he felt his movement, and he thrust against him. Bruce groaned with the pressure and the trapped pleasure. 

Kal-El’s fingers found the hem of his shirt, and slipped underneath the material. Those fingertips traced his abdomen. Then he was kneeling up, then he was grasping the hem of Bruce’s tattered top, and he pulled it over his head. He tossed it away, and then he was diving back down, and attacking his torso with his lips. Bruce was feeling light-headed with the pleasure, and the desire he was feeling, but bewilderment too. He watched and felt him devour his body, panting as he watched as his full lips savoured him. His soft beard tickled him, as his master got obvious pleasure from giving him pleasure, not demanding pleasure for himself yet.

He felt the flush of shame tint his cheeks. Nevertheless, that shame didn’t stop the pleasure and the need he felt.

Kal-El spoke for the first time since this began “You smell so nice, taste so good…” he mouthed into his flesh.

Bruce moaned softly. He smelled good too, he didn’t know how, with just the water from the reservoir and no soap, the others here smelled like the rough living people, they were, but Kal-El smelled… not lily fresh but the sweet muskiness of his skin wasn’t unpleasant. Then Kal-El groaned softly, and he knelt up, and with flushed features and sparkling eyes, he gazed down at him. They locked gazes. Then Kal-El reached down and he unfastened his own pants. Bruce’s eyes followed the movement, and he saw the prominent bulge there, evidence of Kal-El’s desire for him. His master reached in and he pulled out his erection. Bruce stared at it, panting with arousal but also anxiety. He’d brought it up, he was the one who had made the first move in an attempt to stay in control, but he felt nothing like in control right now. Kal-El’s fingers touched Bruce’s lips before his hand skated from his jaw to hold him behind his head. Bruce breathed deeply with nerves. Bruce swallowed down his anxiety, and he reached out and he wrapped his fist around the hard cock and he stroked down it. He heard Kal-El’s shuddery breath. He glanced up to see Kal-El’s eyes were heavy lidded as they gazed down at him. He felt the hand behind his head begin to guide him closer. Bruce’s body reflexively strained against it.

He saw Kal-El blink slowly. Then without saying a word, Kal-El released his head, and then he ran his hand over Bruce’s torso. He bowed his head, his soft lips met his waistband, and his hands unfastened Bruce’s pants. When they were loose, Kal-El grasped them and pulled them off down Bruce’s legs. He tossed them away too, and then his gaze returned to him lying there naked against the mattress.

He saw admiration and lust there in his eyes. Unexpectedly, he was grabbed and flipped over, and he ended up sprawled on the cape covered mattress face down. His fists twisted into his own cape, as he waited to be taken, his alien master was going to fuck him. This was it. He was going to let a man own his ass just for the sake of this goddamned failed mission. He’d had enormous hope in finding a champion for his world, to find the Red-Blue Blur, but it was a fool’s errand because he was probably dead, and now surviving was his only aim, he cursed inwardly, ‘Damn you Clark Kent.’

He felt the wet tip of that big cock play against him. He had no real experience to judge how it would feel but it seemed big. His body trembled with his desire, even as his mind tried to reason that this was just a tactic, an exchange, his body for protection. Even despite his mind’s condemnation, his ass quivered against it. Then Kal-El murmured, “Damn you’re really trying to tempt me aren’t you?”

Bruce groaned, mumbled against his cape, “Shush just fuck me if you’re gonna.”

He felt it in the valley, felt it teasingly against him, making his asshole damp. He felt Kal-El so close, he felt public hair against his ass cheeks. His voice was hoarse, “Oh I wish I could.”

He felt that big hard cock rubbing up and down his cleft, over and over, teasing it. Again, his body betrayed him, as it arched, and pressed back for it. He asked, “Why not?” though it sounded like a plea.

Strong, large hands caressed his athletic body, and Kal-El replied, “Too messy and there’s no way to be careful here.”

Bruce turned his bruised face into the black material. He should’ve been relieved but… 

Kal-El murmured, “You’ve got a nice ass.”

He smiled despite himself, “Thanks.”

He gasped as Kal-El came to rest over him; his solid form pressing him down, his chest to Bruce’s back, then he continued to thrust against him, in the valley between his cheeks. He moaned, as he felt and heard Kal-El grunt and pant near his ear, as he mouthed his shoulder and neck and even though he was still being used, his hard treacherous cock lay trapped against the lumpy mattress. He thought for one crazy second, he wished there was a mirror so he could see Kal-El’s face, as he dry humped against him, to see his own reflection, to see what he would look like when he was being fucked. 

It took a while with less contact, but finally Kal-El let out a restrained grunt, and his cock left him. There was no wetness, and Bruce was half disappointed that he had shot his load on the floor and not on him. He berated himself again for his addled thoughts and feelings. He wondered if Kal-El had that much stamina when he had tight clinging contact around him. At that thought, his aching cock flexed, and he groaned. 

“Are you hard for me?” Kal-El murmured as he kissed his shoulder.

“Yes.” he whispered begrudgingly. 

“You need me?”

“Yes.” he admitted.

Suddenly, Kal-El grasped his hips, and dragged him to the edge of the cape covered mattress, and his ass hung over the edge, his knees met the sandy gritty ground. His cock hung heavy between his thighs.

Then one of those strong hands reached under him, between his legs from the back, and made a fist around his hanging heavy flesh. Then he began pumping him, his rhythm was steady, and he felt as if he was being milked. The irrational thought made him chuckle darkly against his own cape, where would an alien scientist’s son learn how to milk a dairy cow.

At his laugh, Kal-El's spare hand caressed his body, over his back, and down over his ass cheeks. 

Then in no time at all, his come was leaking out onto the gritty ground underneath him. Kal-El seemed to be set on milking everything he had out with determination. “Oh shit.” he huffed out. He lay there panting as he recovered.

Finally, Kal-El moved off of him, standing up again. He heard him go over to the water cask, and use the water to clean up. Then he said quietly, “Come on, get washed up Bruce, and get ready for bed.”

Bruce was delighted to have the chance to use the water to wash. As he got off the bed, he glanced around at the daylight, he wanted to ask how he knew when bedtime was, but he didn’t, he just did what he was told.

~*~

They lay in bed as they had before; Bruce lay across the width at the end of the bed, like the pet he was, with his master’s feet resting on him. He thought about Kal-El’s desire for him, even after spending time with Zod. He turned his head to look to see if Kal-El was asleep yet. He found he wasn’t, and he was being observed with a gentle gaze. He couldn’t read the look in his eyes. 

Bruce closed his eyes, and tried not to focus on his bruised face, but it was difficult, and finally he reached up and rubbed his jaw. After a few moments of silence, Kal-El whispered earnestly, “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

“It was a tap compare to that giant’s shot.” He allowed.

He confided, “The lesson unlearned was mine. I’ve tried not to care about anything since I’ve been here, just tried to survive in case…” he trailed off.

“In case what?” he wondered.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” 

He was curious but didn’t push; he encouraged him to keep talking, “So you tried not to care…?”

“Then you showed up, standing up to Zod, and I liked it, liked you and I know you’ve probably made some bad choices in your life for you to end up here, but I couldn’t let him kill you.”

Bruce remembered what Zod had said, that as long as he won, he didn’t have to kill, not just that once but every time. He remembered leaving Kal-El with Zod, and he realised, he knew… “You did it to protect me.”

His companion gazed at him silently. It was a silence of confession, and Bruce’s heart panged in his chest. He knew he had Kal-El’s lust; he was egotistical enough to know how he had gained that. However, he didn’t know how or why he had gained this handsome alien’s affection too, affection strong enough that he would use his wiles to sway his lord for Bruce’s sake, trade himself for Bruce’s life, but not just his physical life but for his conviction not to kill as well.

 

To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

TITLE: Conviction 7/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,560  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce tries to continue his mission.

~*~

He entered the exercise yard. He observed the convicts gathered together, the crowd watched as they dead-lifted weights. He could tell by the jeering and laughing, it was a competition to see who could lift the most. It was probably a common occurrence in prison life, but here in this primitive place, the weights were rocks of different sizes. In the crowd, he saw Zod and Kal-El watching on. Bruce approached. He observed some lift with ease and other’s struggle as the rocks got larger and heavier. If this was a human prison with weights where he could tell the weight or he could guess, he might compete. He knew he was no slouch by human standards, but knowing the strength of some here like that beast of a man that he had fought in the arena put him off. In his everyday life, he was willing to struggle to win, and go up against untold odds, but in this kind of thing, he wouldn’t put himself up for it unless he believed he could win. He didn’t want to show himself up. 

He came to stand behind Kal-El just in time to witness Zod nudge Kal-El’s shoulder, and playfully taunt, “You think you could’ve wiped the floor with this lot?”

Kal-El raised an eyebrow and shrugged, and then he smirked, “Maybe.”

Bruce raised his own brows at the comment. He also felt a little annoyed by the camaraderie between his master, and his lord. Just then, Zod glanced past Kal-El’s shoulder and saw Bruce there. Then Zod pursed his lips, and said to Kal-El, “How about your pet, how do you think he would fare?”

Kal-El chuckled and said derisively, “Are you joking, he’s good at fighting but I wouldn’t even allow him to be a part of this.”

He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut and stabbed in the back at the same time. Instinctively, he wanted to rail against Kal-El’s orders. He stepped into the circle, and called out, “Hey got room for…”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was grasped roughly, and dragged back out of the circle. He struggled and then he was looking into Kal-El’s furious face. “No!” he declared.

“Why not?” he demanded.

He heard a roar of laughter rise from the crowd.

His master tensed his jaw, and then he manhandled him out of the exercise yard. He didn’t struggle because he didn’t want to call his loyalty to Kal-El into question in front of the other prisoners and especially Zod. His master pulled him out into the open oppressive air, before letting go. Before Bruce could vent his ire, Kal-El demanded, “Are you fucking crazy?”

Bruce glowered at him, “Afraid that I’d show you up, huh?”

Kal-El shook his head, “Being my pet means you don’t have to take part in things like that.”

“Maybe I want to be.”

His master stared at him dumfounded, and then abruptly, he stated, “You belong to me Bruce; no one else is touching you.”

He frowned in confusion, “Touching me?”

The light of realisation came to Kal-El’s face, he sighed, “You don’t know… it’s about power, the winner gets a… um… a…” Bruce watched him struggle for the words. Kal-El licked his lips nervously, “The loser has to do everything, and anything the winner says until the next competition.”

Bruce’s eyes widened as he got the gist. The fight drained out of Bruce and he nodded along, “A bitch.”

Kal-El saw him relax and he stood down too. He tilted his head, “What made you want to anyway?”

“I heard what you said to Zod about me.” He grumbled, “You really think I’d be the loser?”

His master half smiled, “No, but it’s not just the loser, the winner can pick anyone, most don’t pick the real loser, a lot of them like someone who matches them, there’s more prestige than taking control of a loser. Being a champion in the arena and being my pet would tempt them to pick you.”

He nodded along. His concern had been quelled. But it reminded him how he didn’t belong here. It was time to get back to his mission. He glanced around the wide open spaces. He said casually, “So no tests of strength, how about a jog?”

Kal-El mirrored him and glanced around the horizon, “You want to go… jogging?”

He wasn’t sure if he understood the word, he changed it to the more common words, “Yes a slow run, if I’ve got to keep fighting in the arena I’ve got to stay fit.”

Otherworldly eyes gauged him, and then he nodded, “Okay, how far?”

Subtly probing for answers about this place, he asked, “Well where’s the boundary of this place, I mean where’s the prison fence?”

Kal-El said, “There’s no fence here, the Phantom Zone is just a prison, there’s nothing else.”

“Really…” he played oblivious, “So how big is this place, I mean I didn’t even know aliens really existed until I got here?”

At the word alien, Kal-El seemed to flinch, but he revealed, “I don’t know, my father would’ve known, he taught me the knowledge of the twenty-eight know galaxies but not the size of the Phantom Zone.”

Bruce smiled at the comment. He urged, “C’mon let’s see how far we can get.”

Kal-El’s eyes gleamed at the challenge. “You want me to come with you?”

He nodded, and eyed him goadingly. 

Then Kal-El nodded, “Alright.”

~*~

They paced each other. They’d been gone a long time, he guessed, but Kal-El had been right, they never got near a boundary. Without their outerwear, the atmosphere was sapping their strength. He glanced at Kal-El and saw the sweat shining on his skin, his biceps were gleaming, and his hair was dripping. Bruce knew he had more left in his tank, but he wanted to make sure his master could get back too. He reached out and tapped his shoulder. Kal-El turned and met his gaze. Bruce suggested, “Let’s have a rest before we head back.” 

Kal-El groaned, and then stopped and then went over and sat down on a low flat rock. He huffed and puffed for a few moments, and Bruce laughed softly. Kal-El glared at him light heartedly, “Okay, you win.”

“You did great…” he complimented, “Some people just don’t like running.”

The other man tittered and declared, “Actually I love running… just not here.”

Bruce conceded, “It’s definitely the wrong climate for exertion.”

Kal-El laid back on the flat rock and gazed up into the sky, “You can say that again.”

His eyes reflexively, took in his master’s body, laid out, and relaxing. He went and joined him on the rock. 

His mind turned to Kal-El and Zod’s relationship, he remembered him telling him about his parents being killed. He remembered him saying Zod was a friend of his dad’s, he wondered if that was why they were so close. He wondered aloud, “Were your parents your only family?”

He shook his head, “I had an uncle and aunt, but they died too.” For a moment, Bruce wished he hadn’t brought the conversation down, but then a smile touched Kal-El’s lips, “I have a cousin, she managed to get away.”

“So she’s alive, and free?”

He smiled with pride and fondness, “Kara is free no matter where she is, it’s just the way she is; even though I tried my best to calm her down.”

“Sounds like you’ve got great love for each other.”

Kal-El glanced at him and nodded, “She’s beautiful, and headstrong, but she’s tough and smart too.”

Bruce smiled, “Sounds like someone I know.” His companion raised a curious brow, and Bruce informed him, “Her name is Barbara, and she’s just what you just described your cousin as.”

“Girlfriend?” he wondered.

He chuckled at the thought, “No, she’s a little young for me.” He shook his head, “Forget I said that, I just don’t think of her like that. She just came along and forced herself into my life. She heard about me on the street, you know and she decided she wanted to be as tough and as smart as me.” He smirked, “In the end, I took her under my wing and now I can’t get rid of her.”

Kal-El smirked, “Tenacious and headstrong but loyal to a fault, I know the type.”

Bruce tilted his head, “We’re not talking about your cousin now?”

“No, I’m talking about the woman that I was going to marry until I ended up here.”

Part of him was curious but for some reason the other part didn’t want to hear about her. Before he could decide which way he wanted the conversation to go, Kal-El mumbled, “What will your Barbara do when you don’t come home?”

He didn’t know, because as far as his girl Friday was concerned he was coming home, even as she had tried to talk him out of jumping through that portal, she was still convinced he’d get back. But what if something did happen so he couldn’t get back, what would she do? He revealed thoughtfully, “Part of me wishes she’d go back to our streets and keep control there, but a part of me hopes she would pack it in and get her shit together and find herself a normal happy life. She’s smart; she could do anything that she wanted.”

His master nodded along, he noticed his companion was watching him closely, and then he licked his dry lips before asking quietly, “So when the do-gooders got you, she got away.”

“Huh-huh.” he non-answered. Here he saw an opportunity to find some answers, and he commented, “That Green Arrow bastard was only interested in sending my ass to this hellhole.”

He saw him swallow hard at the mention of the man who had come here with the Red-Blue Blur. He remembered the convicts telling him that Kal-El had caused the deaths of others who had seen Earth. If he had been there, it probably would’ve pissed Kal-El off that Green Arrow had gotten away that day. It made him feel guilty for the liking he found he had for his alien master. He asked conversationally, “You heard of that guy?”

Kal-El turned his gaze to the sky. “Yeah I’ve heard of him.”

They lay there without either of them speaking. Kal-El gazed ahead and he asked without looking at Bruce, “Was he by himself when he got you?”

The question came out of nowhere, but Bruce understood what he was asking. Inwardly, he thought arrogantly that if the story were true, Green Arrow wouldn’t have been able to do it all by himself. Outwardly, he chuckled harshly, “Green Arrow you mean, no he had some blonde bitch with him, sure thought she knew it all.”

From the side, he saw Kal-El’s lips turn up into a smirk. Bruce frowned and wondered at his amusement about his imprisonment. Kal-El looked back and met his gaze, and licked his lips with a smile still on them. His master snorted, “You sound a little pissed off.”

He shrugged, “Well I suppose I am.”

Kal-El blinked slowly, and then murmured, “I’m kind of glad they caught you.”

He noticed how Kal-El seemed a little lighter in his bearing, as if some weight had been lifted off his shoulders. There was silence again. He watched him watching him. Then he murmured, “You look good hot and sweaty.”

Bruce’s nostrils flared. He did too but he wasn’t going to say it. Then Kal-El uttered the same suggestion from an earlier time sitting at the reservoir, “Why don’t you take off your shirt?”

But this time he knew it wasn’t an idle suggestion, he wasn’t playing either. His alien master held his gaze, waiting for his sultry order to be obeyed. 

He reached up and he pulled his shirt over his head, Kal-El was moving and crouching over him and his lips were pressed to Bruce’s abdomen before he had finished the action. Then he slipped off the flat rock to kneel there instead. 

Then Kal-El leaned in and he kissed Bruce’s belly, running his tongue over the short hairs there. His hands caressed his torso, up to his chest, and skated back down gently, down to his muscular thighs, before guiding them wider. Bruce laid his head back, and tried to keep his breathing under control. He didn’t know what to do with his hands as Kal-El’s hands untied Bruce’s pants hastily.

The flexibility of what he found attractive had been a background noise since his coming of age, but his life and his focus had always been on other things, things more serious than the superficial attraction caused by how another male looked.

He had never peered over the edge never mind taken a leap over the edge into that unknown aspect of sexual desire. That was until coming to this desolate prison. It was not until Kal-El had looked at him with desire, and when Kal-El had touched him intimately, it had come to mind.

With his back against the rough surface, his cock was already stretching to meet his master. His gusty breath played over the hardened flesh, as Kal-El hummed, “So nice.”

Bruce groaned as his cock flexed towards that humming mouth. 

Kal-El smiled in reaction, then he leaned in, and he engulfed his cock with his hot wet mouth. Bruce hissed as the pleasure shot through him. His alien master hummed around his girth, pulled back slowly sucking all the way off. Then he studied his cock intently and then took it into his mouth again. 

Bruce’s hands wanted to thread through his alien master’s thick hair, and rock into his skilful mouth. He wouldn’t let himself do that either. Bruce turned his face away so he didn’t have to watch, so he wasn’t tempted to act on his impulses. 

However, his gaze returned to Kal-El as his hands released his own cock. knowing Kal-El was turned on by sucking his cock, made his own cock throb in the hot mouth. Kal-El stroked himself roughly, as he continued to suck Bruce’s cock enthusiastically. He pulled off to the tip, kissed it tenderly and then took him back into his mouth and focused on the head. He glanced up, and gorgeous aquamarine eyes met and held Bruce’s gaze, then Bruce was undone, his cock jerked into Kal-El’s mouth. Kal-El hummed voraciously, and continued sucking. Bruce’s whole body spasmed and quivered, and his hands gouged into the gritty sand in restrained rapture.

Then he let Bruce’s erection fall from his lips, and he kissed his way up to his chest, his fist still pumping his own cock. He heard the wet sound of Kal-El jerking his cock, with low cries through clenched teeth. Again, he wished he’d come on him and not waste it on the ground. He didn’t say it, so it fell to the sand.

They met each other’s eyes in their satiated faces. Kal-El smiled slowly, and said, “I’m really glad you’re here with me, Bruce.”

It must’ve been the lingering sexual high because he agreed frankly, “Well you did say that I belonged to you, Kal-El.”

 

To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

TITLE: Conviction 8/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,666  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce comes to breaking point.

~*~

He awoke slowly, with the lumpy mattress at his back. He opened tired eyes and he gazed up at the pale netted ceiling. Waking up here in the Phantom Zone was an eerie experience, he never knew how long he’d been asleep, and there was no way to judge with the perpetual daylight. He still hadn’t figured out how to tell the passing of time here, and he still relied on his master to tell him when to go to sleep. Sometimes bedtime seemed to arrive very quickly, and other times he felt like a dead man walking, tired, and just waiting for Kal-El to say when. 

He was distracted from his early ‘morning’ musings when the flap at the doorway opened, and a messenger was there, “Fight starts in five minutes.”

His master paced into the chamber seconds after the Zod’s serf had gone. Bruce groaned at the prospect of another fight, and he commented, “I didn’t think I’d been asleep that long.”

Kal-El was silent and didn’t reply. 

Bruce observed him, and saw tension tighten his frame. Then Bruce got out of bed, he caught his gaze and asked, “Kal-El?”

He winced. “I hate seeing you get hurt.” Kal-El admitted.

Hearing the heartfelt words, he felt bad inside, this alien convict had grown attached to a person who wasn’t real. He wasn’t who he thought he was. He thought he had no choice and was going to stay here with him forever. He had the urge to reach out to comfort him, he even stepped forward to do it but being tactile wasn’t his style and he hesitated.

Suddenly, strong hands grabbed him and he was pulled into Kal-El’s embrace, and he took Bruce’s mouth hard and a little desperate. 

In shock, at the sudden move, feeling Kal-El’s lips against his lips for the very first time, he didn’t respond, and when Kal-El realised that, he pulled away and stared at him. He must’ve seen the surprise plainly on his face, he licked at his moist lips and then he winced, “I’m sorry.”

Kal-El’s hand began to reach out, and then it hesitated and dropped away with defeat.

Bruce shook his own head, all the experiences up until now came together, and exploded, he grabbed his master’s head in his hands, he took Kal-El’s mouth hard, and passion filled. The kiss was more intimate than anything they had done before. His alien master groaned deep in his chest, and he returned the kiss ardently, wrapping him up tightly in his embrace. His beard was soft against his face. Kal-El made a soft mewing sound. Their lips slid together, and then slipped away softly. 

Kal-El breathed heavily, he touched Bruce’s face with his fingers, his hand curved around and he stroked his jaw tenderly with his thumb and confessed, “I tried not to, you are what you are, but from the moment I saw you I felt something for you, something that I didn’t know I still had in me.”

His confession shouldn't change anything, he was still a criminal, the kind of person he had sworn to fight, someome so dangerous he had been sent to this hellhole but right then and there Bruce didn’t care, his words had touched him deep inside. He threw caution to the wind and he leaned in and took Kal-El’s mouth again slowly. 

The soft kiss ended lingeringly, and Kal-El met his gaze with a tentative but pleased smile.

Then Bruce stepped away and he reached for his armour and began putting it on. His alien admirer watched him as he always did when he removed his clothes, or put them on but this time, he stepped forward, then he knelt down, and as each inch of fabric came up his body, Kal-El kissed his torso in each place before it went up. Bruce was breathing heavy even before he had the fight. As Bruce fastened the clasps, insistent lips played against his throat. He was acting as if it was the last time he was going to see him.

When he was ready, he guided Kal-El away from his throat, and kissed him simply on the lips. Bruce smiled, “Wow you started something; let’s just hope we can finish it huh?”

Kal-El nodded, “I have faith in you.”

~*~

His master walked him to the arena. On the way in, Gon stepped into his path, his last opponent was recovered and looking for revenge. “You be careful human, to my kind death is the only victory.”

Kal-El stepped in between them, and ordered quietly, “Keep walking Gon.”

“Your human will die next time we meet.” The monster of a man growled.

Even though, Gon dwarfed him just as he did Bruce, Kal-El stood tall, his eyes steely, “You touch him outside that arena, and you’ll be seeing your brother in your afterlife.” He warned.

His tone and bearing gave Bruce goose bumps, it was an arousing thing to witness, to see a walking death trap, swallow anxiously, and then step out of Kal-El’s path. As they continued, he saw the women looking at him, assessing him. He wondered if they were the prostitutes that his master had mentioned to him. To the prisoners here, they saw he had allied himself to the man only second in power here, he wondered if they were jealous of that position or maybe they thought they could align themselves with him to get a taste of that power. If that was the case, they were barking up the wrong tree. While he had the opportunity to escape, he had no plans for a long term future in this hellhole.

He passed them by, and focused on his next opponent.

~*~

He paced back to Kal-El’s chamber. It was after the fight and he’d been victorious. He should’ve been happy, but he couldn’t feel that way alone as he was, and knowing where Kal-El was at this moment. He was feeling, what he could now admit to himself was jealousy. He had won, yet it was General Zod who got the prize. That got his prize. 

Damn, it was making him crazy thinking this way. He was sure what Zod and Kal-El was doing wasn’t new to them. But he still wasn’t so sure, how much of that he wanted for himself. He’d let that man touch him, with his cock, and his mouth and his hands and now to imagine another feeling that touch, that hunger, was twisting him up inside. It wasn’t his style to be jealous; he’d never had anyone to feel jealous about.

Nothing could change the way that he was feeling right now. He lifted the flap and entered to find an unfamiliar woman sitting on the bed. As he entered she smiled, and reached up and removed her head scarf. She was very attractive, and placed in a clean civilised world, she might have been beautiful, her hair was dark chocolate brown, her eyes were pretty and her lips were full and sensuous, but here there was a hardness and overt sexuality to her countenance. He knew she was here in the Phantom Zone because she was a criminal like the rest but he didn’t know why she was here in this room now.

So he asked her, “What are you doing in here?”

She revealed, “Kal-El told me to come here.”

“Kal-El told you, why?”

She rolled her eyes, and her hand skirted along her own covered thigh, “He told me to please you.”

Bruce’s stomach turned over, and he felt a little sick. “Please me…”

Not seeing anything in his reaction, she smiled, “You have been here for a while, with no woman, Kal-El said…”

He grimaced, and took a seat on the mattress, “Do you always do what Kal-El says?”

The courtesan laughed, “I’d rather do as Kal-El requests than the rest of the brutes here.”

“You don’t… for other prisoners here?”

Her brow creased, “You want to talk, not be satisfied?”

He smiled tightly, the inbuilt translator was not working as well as it did with the Kryptonian prisoners, it told him she was something other. “Maybe. Tell me about Kal-El.”

She snorted softly, “I don’t know much, I only know how he is with me.” 

“Tell me about that.”

“It began one day when General Zod ordered all the women here to come to his chamber. We lined up, and he told Kal-El to choose one.” She reached up and smoothed her chocolate coloured hair with her hand, “He chose me, I don’t know why me.”

Bruce admitted, “You are beautiful.”

Her eyes widened at the compliment, and then she continued, “So then after that I come to the General’s chamber and I satisfy Kal-El as Zod watches us.”

“That’s all Zod does is watch?”

“Ursa kill me if he did more.” She said candidly.

He nodded along with understanding, then asked, “You never come to this chamber to see Kal-El alone?”

She looked around, as if seeing it for the first time, “Never before.”

“But now you come here now to satisfy me.”

“I don’t mind.” she smiled a small smile, “You’re like Kal-El you treat me as a woman.”

He was confused. This whole conversation was making him feel unbalanced, but it also gave him the stirrings of arousal. What he shared with Kal-El already satisfied him, Kal-El’s touch, and his mouth. He knew he wasn’t reciprocating that satisfaction, did that mean he was getting his satisfaction from this woman. He reached out, and he caressed her thigh. He asked the blunt question seductively, “Does Kal-El fuck you?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she frowned at the same time, and Bruce realised the word wasn’t clear to her. he tried to be as clear as possible. He slid his hand up between her legs, and asked, “Does Kal-El put his phallus here?”

He saw a shiver go through her body. She breathed deeply, and revealed, “He puts his mouth and fingers here.” She touched the back of his hand. He puts his phallus…” she touched her own mouth, “…here.”

Bruce’s own cock hardened at that information, confirming that his master’s rule about not fucking him was the same for her. She squirmed against his hand, she asked, “You want to put your phallus here.”

He stroked against her. It was tempting, but not as tempting as it would be if Kal-El had been there too, not as tempting as Kal-El himself. He groaned at his own thoughts. The woman gazed at him, watching his reactions. Bruce licked his lips, and asked, “When was the last time that you satisfied Kal-El?”

She laughed, “Not since you came, the other’s they talk, joke, and say he prefers you now.” Bruce swallowed hard. A part of him wished that was true, but he knew where Kal-El was right now. She continued, “But they know you are just his plaything. I think you are more than that; you look like a real man to me like Kal-El.” She startled him as she reached for and cupped his aroused crotch. He grasped her wrist and pulled it away gently. He told her earnestly, “You can leave now.”

“But I haven’t....”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell Kal-El that you came by, and you’ll still get whatever it is you get.”

She looked hesitant, “You are sure?”

“Yes.” and he was.

She got up from the bed, and then left the chamber. 

He had been as patient as he could be, but he couldn’t stand the waiting, feeling helpless.

Bruce left the chamber, and headed for the arena. He didn’t know what he was doing; his presence there could be suicide… He entered the arena to find it deserted. He was half relieved not to find anyone; it gave him a moment to collect himself. Nonetheless, it did no good; it didn’t abate the twisting inside him, knowing they had adjourned to Zod’s chamber.

More sedately, he approached Zod’s chamber, he was morbidly curious, wondering if Ursa was there to witness the scene. Then again, he remembered Zod telling Ursa to leave that first time that Kal-El had used his connection to Zod for the sake of Bruce’s life. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and then he moved the cloth at the doorway aside and peered in. 

His gaze found the mock four poster bed, through the mesh curtains he saw silhouettes moving, and he heard heavy breaths and then a low laugh. Then he saw the curtain move, and he watched as a naked Kal-El got up from the bed, and then moved across the chamber. Bruce inhaled deeply, seeing his master fully nude and glorious to behold. Kal-El stopped and picked up a jug, and poured a cup of murky water. Kal-El had told him that Zod’s water came from a well, but from where Bruce was it didn’t look much purer than the toxic looking river water. Then Kal-El crossed back over to the bed, moved the curtain aside, and offered the cup. The General reached for it with a smile. Then he took a sip, and then cocked his head towards the bed.

Bruce couldn’t stomach seeing Kal-El return to the bed, so he left the doorway as stealthily as he entered. 

He returned to Kal-El’s chamber in a foul mood.

He lay on Kal-El’s bed, and continued his turbulent wait for his master to return.

~*~

He might have fallen asleep after his afterhours wandering, waiting for Kal-El’s tryst with Zod to be over, he wasn’t sure, but he was awake when Kal-El entered. Kal-El’s eyes were as turbulent as Bruce had felt before. His master met his gaze silently; maybe he was remembering the viciousness of Bruce’s disapproval last time, expecting the worst. It wasn’t the same as last time, because this time Bruce knew the difference between pleasure and duty. He got off the bed, he went to the water cask, he scooped up some water, he carried it, and he offered it to him. He held Bruce’s hands with his and then bowed his head, and supped up the water that he offered. He drank it all, but his hands still held onto his. Then Kal-El looked up slowly and met his gaze. The intensity of the look put Bruce on the cusp of wary.

Kal-El’s gaze strayed to the mattress. He swallowed hard, and then asked, “You’ve been sleeping?”

“What else would I have being doing?” with a tinge of chagrin.

His master blinked slowly and then turned away. Bruce smiled tightly, “What were you thinking sending that woman here?”

Kal-El turned back around, and asked roughly, “So she came?”

He shrugged with cynical amusement, “No, actually neither of us did.”

“Right, I just thought…” his master began.

Some of that agitation from before came flooding back, and he sniped, “You thought because you were in there with Zod, that I’d be satisfied with your pretty favour?”

Kal-El’s jaw tensed, and he grated out, “No, I was told by some of the men that you had been asking about pussy…” his face twisted, and he said, “I know that you’re not completely happy with me… so I thought you might like…”

Happy, he thought sarcastically, he couldn’t remember the last time that he’d been happy. His focus was the mission, always the mission, missions like this, except not like this, where Kal-El had become his focus instead of the real reason behind it. He hated being inactive, just as he hated having to wait here for Kal-El to come back to him from being with someone else. Bruce cut him off and blurted out in despair, “How could I be happy…”

His master breathed in harshly, shook his head, and turned away from him, “I know. I understand.”

 

To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

TITLE: Conviction 9/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,835  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Kal-El and Bruce get even closer.

~*~

He saw the doubt in his master’s body language. He thought his unhappiness was caused by him, it wasn’t it was caused by the knowledge of what this man was willing to do for him. It was caused by his own feelings of jealousy. He shook his own head, and grasped Kal-El and pulled him back against his chest. He felt Kal-El’s body tense in response. Bruce said lowly into his ear, “I saw you, I saw you in his bed.”

Kal-El groaned, and he breathed heavily, “You know why.”

“Does he fuck you huh?” he demanded.

“Bruce.” he lamented, before trying to get out of his grasp.

He wouldn’t let him, and they struggled, but with Batman’s skill, Kal-El couldn’t overcome him, and finally, he settled back down and stopped struggling. That surrender spoke to Bruce’s body. Bruce’s hand reached for and he cupped and then gently squeezed his ass through the fabric of his pants, Kal-El squirmed in response. Then Bruce’s dextrous hands found the waistband and unfastened Kal-El’s pants. Kal-El said breathily, “No, don’t…”

That denial spurred him on, and he pushed Kal-El face first down on the mattress. His forehead was against Batman’s cape and as he followed him down, kneeling on the bed. He tugged the waistband over the swells of his ass. He questioned harshly, “Is that what you say to Zod, when he…” 

He gazed at the firm curved bare ass cheeks of his master. He growled softly, and then he spread his cheeks. He stopped and he stared. His gaze darted to Kal-El’s dark head pressed to the mattress, and then back to the sight of his clean, dry, and most importantly tight asshole. Tentatively, he touched his finger to it, and in response, Kal-El’s hips rose off the mattress. He caressed the smooth cheeks, and Kal-El groaned. Bruce licked his lips, and asked, even though he knew the answer now, “Zod doesn’t fuck you?”

Spoken against the black cape on the bed, he replied, “No.”

There was silence as Bruce tried to come to terms with not only the fact that he was wrong, but also the fact that in his jealous rage, he had managed to get his alien master face first on the bed, between his legs with his ass exposed. He tried to come to terms with the fact that Kal-El wasn’t fighting him. Then Kal-El asked, “You didn’t want the woman because you want to fuck me?”

What he’d done was instinctive, he’d wanted to prove his point, and even though his cock was hard, he couldn’t bring himself to cross the line. He’d had excuses before, the pecking order in this place, and the notion of survival. If he did this they’d be no lying to himself, and it would blur the lines of his own desires and his mission.

Bruce was in turmoil, he didn’t know what to do.

He caressed the sweet curve of his bare ass, and he watched as Kal-El pushed up against his palm. He couldn’t fathom his responses, how could someone in Kal-El’s position of power in this place, not even fight to keep that position. It was a mystery. He lifted his hands away and he said wryly, “We can’t though can we, too messy?”

He saw Kal-El’s body heave and then he turned over on the mattress and he gazed up at him. He smirked, “I didn’t think so.”

Bruce squinted at him, “Were you playing with me, testing me?”

Kal-El lay there and he reached down and he grasped his own revealed erection, and began stroking it. Bruce watched him. He wanted to see him naked like he had been in Zod’s bed, but he couldn’t – wouldn’t ask for it. 

Nonetheless, Bruce met and held his gaze, and he knew he wanted his prize. 

His master must’ve read the look in his eyes because he murmured to him, “Come here.” Bruce lunged forward and he kissed him intensely, Kal-El answered him hungrily, until he uttered against his lips, “Stand up.”

He did as he was told, and he stood up on the mattress. Then masculine hands reached for the bow that tied his pants together, his nimble fingers unfastened Bruce’s pants, and then parted the material. He tugged it down to his hips, and Bruce slipped it over his feet and off. He had to catch himself from falling; he had just about steadied himself when his master dragged him down to him onto the lumpy mattress.

Then Kal-El just stopped and laid back and just looked at Bruce’s hard length.

Bruce reached down and he held his erection. Kal-El’s eyes flared with arousal. Bruce mirrored the smirk that had been shot his way before. Kal-El might be able to read his eyes but Bruce found he could do the same to him. He scooted up the bed, and he played the head of his cock against pink coral lips. Kal-El’s tongue sneaked out and he gave him short little licks against the tip teasingly. Bruce was on edge wanting more and then Kal-El opened his mouth. As his licks became longer, he played with the glans. Bruce’s breath was noisy as he leaned in further and pushed the full head into his mouth. Kal-El held his gaze and he closed his full lips around it and hummed. Bruce smiled viciously, and he grasped Kal-El’s hair in between his fingers and he began thrusting. It was hot and wet in his mouth, and it was tight. He recognised in Kal-El eyes that this wasn’t submission; he was the one with the power still, and he really enjoyed having this power over him. He thrust deeper, hit his throat, and Kal-El made a rough noise, and then pulled off all the way to the tip, the suction strong and clinging. Bruce trembled with the need, and the desire he felt.

He gasped and grunted, and he knew he was going to come. Kal-El must’ve read his mind, because he groaned around his tip, and let Bruce’s cock fall from his mouth, and he whispered hoarsely, “Not yet baby.”

Bruce gazed down, not comprehending, until Kal-El’s lips closed over one of his balls, and he groaned at the incredible feeling. It let his orgasm dial back down. He hummed as he enjoyed the feeling of his balls being slowly sucked. But then he cried out softly in surprise as Kal-El caught his hips, and dragged him further over, so he was straddling his head and then his mouth was in the valley of his ass cheeks. His breathing stuttered as he felt soft velvety moisture against his ass. He squeezed his lips together trying not to not make a sound. He heard the satisfied little grunt, before strong fingers were spreading his cheeks, and then the moist tongue was swiping across him again closer. He squeezed his eyes shut, but all it did was amplify the feeling of the next lick. He moaned softly at the tendril of pleasure. Kal-El echoed him with a loud groan.

He closed his eyes, and held still, as he felt his master’s mouth work against him. He felt himself begin to relax against his moist strong tongue, and he felt pleasure he had never felt before. He wanted the mouth, needed that tongue. He reached down and he spread his own ass cheeks. 

He felt Kal-El moan against him, and knew he had felt what he was doing. Kal-El’s fingers tightened on his hips, and he pointed his tongue, and thrust it up against him. Bruce moaned with arousal, and he began moving, riding his lover’s tongue, his alien lover – shit not his lover – holding himself open, and feeling his lover’s chin up in the valley – he cringed inwardly at himself for even thinking that word. He wasn’t his lover.

Soon he was panting, and crying softly, so needy and never wanting to stop, wanting to be fucked. His own mind fell over itself at that thought. But he was too far into his passion to consider doing anything other than what he was doing, and what he wanted. It wasn’t right was it; to want someone who was the epitome of what he had sworn to fight. He hated himself for letting this man touch him, he hated that he could give him such pleasure, and he hated that he cared about him and wanted him so much.

He caught himself before he touched his erection that was standing proud. He hesitated. Then Kal-El was turning them, rolling them over on the bed. His heart quickened, seeing his face. His body was already too highly strung to respond anymore. He shook his head denying there could be anymore pleasure than this. Kal-El smiled seductively. Bruce licked his lips and stared at the netted ceiling. Then his thighs were spread, and Kal-El bowed his head between them.

He let out a shuddery groan, as his tongue met his centre again. Bruce’s hands twisted into his own black cape spread across the lumpy mattress, and he jerked upward, and let out a restrained shout. Then Kal-El mouthed his cock hungrily, and Bruce felt dizzy with lust. 

Then his tongue was against him again, for longer, pressing and licking. Bruce’s fingers found his own nipples and he pinched them. He groaned and then those fingers caressed down his own body, down his abdomen, his belly. He glanced down for the first time, and saw the dark haired man with his head between his thighs; his broad shoulders keeping his legs spread wide, his moist mouth, and strong tongue fucking his ass. His fingers twitched, instinctively wanting to thread though his messy black hair and hold on, hold him there.

Suddenly Kal-El glanced up at him, his mouth still on him. Bruce’s eyes locked on him, and he felt his own asshole quiver against his tongue. He felt him hum in response, and saw the lust and the delight in his eyes. Reflexively, because his mind had lost control, his hands finally found somewhere to go, they grasped and hooked his own knees and he held himself open and on offer for his master, and he arched back into the lumpy mattress, in rapture as he took that offer insatiably. He uttered softly, “I love feeling your tongue against me, ah fucking me, damn fuck me.”

Kal-El moaned against his pliant flesh, and his hand disappeared out of sight between his own body and the black cape covering the bed. 

Bruce whined softly, and then laid his head back against the mattress, waiting and expecting. He wanted him to suck his cock, to rim his ass, he wanted even more from him, and that was what he really hated himself for. Even though Kal-El said, it was too messy to clean up afterwards in this water poor environment, his eyes found the covered cask of water in the corner of the chamber.

He sighed as his lover’s hands caressed his naked thighs. His lips were insistent as they worked up Bruce’s torso. Then Kal-El’s lips found his nipples, and he played his tongue against them. He gazed down and watched Kal-El’s lips on him; they were both caressing and eager at the same time. He really couldn’t deny that he was beginning to love the attention his handsome alien lover gave to him. 

No, not lover.

His lips hovered over his and his own lips parted instinctively, there was anticipation in Kal-El’s eyes, but he didn’t close the gap, so Bruce grasped the back of his neck and forced his full lips onto his. Kal-El pulled back, then his hands caressed Bruce’s body, and then he rolled him over, so his face was against the mattress. He pulled him back by his hips and Bruce had to brace his hands against the mattress. He wondered if Kal-El was going break his rule and fuck him.

Kal-El reached under and began stroking his cock for him, then Bruce felt pressure, and then his thick finger slowly breached his saliva wet asshole. His body shuddered at its first ever alien invader, he moaned, “Oh shit.”

“Hmm you needed that so badly didn’t you huh?” his alien master cooed.

Bruce knelt there completely at his master’s mercy, opened up and… he gasped as the finger pressed deeper and back out to thrust in time to his strokes. He wanted to hate him for doing this, for making him feel this, and want it. Yes, want it, a dark part of him wanted that cock inside him. His thighs trembled, and his ass arched for that alien probing, as it twisted and thrust. His finger found a spot inside and Bruce saw bright lights behind his eyes, and he growled, “Holy shit, yes, yes!”

“Shush yes I know.” Kal-El cajoled him.

He felt his lover kiss his back, between his shoulder blades. He huffed at himself and owned it, his lover – Kal-El was his lover goddammit. Passion and a desperate urge took over him; he turned around and grasped him. As he held on to him, he turned them over on the bed, so now he was straddling Kal-El’s chest, and he thrust his cock back into his mouth. Kal-El’s hands came up, and grasped his bare ass with encouragement. Bruce gazed down into lustful intensely alluring eyes, as he fucked his mouth with all of his being, unafraid anymore of showing his passion. Bruce moaned as his cock flexed in that mouth. Kal-El reached for and pressed his finger back inside Bruce’s sensitive centre. He cried soundlessly, “Oh my god. Oh my god.” and when he came, his shot hit Kal-El across his jaw and his lips. Bruce’s body shook at the sight, and he shot again. 

Otherworldly eyes watched him, breathing heavily with him. Tiredly, Bruce reached out and he wiped away his come. He leaned down and kissed his tacky lips tenderly.

He heard Kal-El’s muffled cries as his body arched under him. He saw the strain on his face and quickly scooted backwards, until he saw Kal-El’s cock in his fist, saw his eyes lock on to him. Then Bruce reached for and took over from Kal-El’s own stroking hand. He stroked the length of it. He enjoyed the feeling of his girth in his fist, and he felt that power, the power of being in control of another person’s pleasure. He could see in his body and face how much Kal-El needed him. He smiled knowingly and he took him over the edge. His lover cried out his orgasm. He watched his body shuddering under his as his come covered Bruce’s fist. 

When Kal-El stopped shuddering, Bruce rolled over and lay at the side of him. Bruce panted softly against the black cape on the bed, and Kal-El’s chest heaved as he caught his breath. Bruce continued to lay there as it all caught up with him; the lethargy he felt was stronger than any he had ever felt before. He heard his master’s breath calm. Finally, he opened his eyes and met his affectionate gaze. 

~*~

They cleaned up in silence.

Then they got into bed under his black cape together as they always did before with Bruce lying across the end of the bed. 

They lay there, until they finally met each other’s gazes. Then Kal-El uttered softly, “Come up here.”

Bruce took a deep breath, it was another order, but he had no wish to deny it and so he flipped the black material away, and then he crawled naked up the mattress. 

Kal-El murmured, “Get in.”

Inwardly he was delighted, but outwardly, he only smirked in response, then he found his way under the covers, and then he lay under the black expanse of his own cape side by side with him. Kal-El held his gaze so close now. Kal-El caressed his cheek and his jaw with his thumb, his eyes were full of affection, but with an underlying seriousness. Bruce leaned in and murmured against his lips, “For having your affection, Zod’s going to keep making me fight until I die isn’t he?”

Kal-El didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. He leaned in and kissed him with all of that forbidden affection. Then he whispered, “Try to get some sleep.”

He smiled sincerely, “As you wish Kal-El.”

Kal-El reached for him, and pulled him into a spooning embrace, chest to back, he kissed his shoulder tenderly. Bruce closed his eyes, as he enjoyed the caress to his back, and tried to pretend that this wasn’t an alien prison, that the arms he was in wasn’t a despot’s right hand man’s, he tried to pretend his feelings for him were just and right. Then in the quiet of the room, they fell asleep together like that.

 

To be continued


	10. Chapter 10

TITLE: Conviction 10/10  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,746  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce has come to terms with his feelings for his master. But will a revelation make him re-evaluate how he feels.

~*~

He’d fought in the arena last night, and won, but with that victory, his master had had to visit General Zod afterwards. Bruce had felt like begging him not to go to him, but he knew that Kal-El was bargaining for Bruce’s life, so Bruce had waited, and eventually Kal-El came back, and Bruce had been relieved. 

They’d gone to bed; Kal-El had shown him great passion. Kal-El had touched him, caressed his body, but they hadn’t fucked. He didn’t know why, Kal-El said it would be too messy to clean up. The voice in his head, Batman’s voice told him that it was a good thing, but his body and his heart was curious and yearned to feel that pleasure, even if it meant using extra water to get clean afterwards. 

Bruce had acknowledged to himself his feelings and accepted Kal-El as his lover.

Later they had kissed, and then Kal-El had just held him close in silence until they fell asleep. 

He woke up and turned his head on the pillow, and found the other side of the bed bare. He raised his head, and his eyes found Kal-El slipping on his black robe like sleeveless top with his back to him. “Is it time to get up?” he asked.

His master turned to the sound of his voice. He gave him a small fond smile, and he answered, “Yes, it is sleepyhead.”

“Why…?” he drawled.

Kal-El chuckled, and came and sat on the bed. He reached out and stroked Bruce’s bristly chin with affection. “Our water is getting low, so it’s time to get some.”

It seemed to have come around so quickly. He smiled, “At least we get to leave the compound. It’ll be good having a change of scenery.”

His master told him, “You could go hunting sometimes, that would get you out for a while, and I bet you’d be good at it.”

Bruce chuckled, “Hunting giant insects I don’t know about that.”

“C’mon get dressed and we’ll go for that water.” He said as he patted his shoulder.

~*~

They were in the secluded spot, where Kal-El’s small reservoir was. They were on a rocky outcrop together waiting for the slow trickle of water to fill their water skins.

As they waited for their water skins to fill up, their imaginations had taken them back to the yacht floating on the calm waves of the Caribbean, in reality he was shirtless and stretch out on the flat rocky outcrop. As he lay there, he heard the trickling water of the inlet and his gaze found the supply of fresh water in the reservoir, out here in the wilderness. He knew that it was the answer to Kal-El’s reluctance to take him, to fuck him. However as much as Bruce wanted it, yearned for it, he couldn’t allow himself to suggest it. 

He closed his eyes again in pleasure as full lips kissed the centre of his naked back.

Kal-El’s fingertips traced along a scar that was small thin slice in his flesh, he asked, “How did you get this one?”

With his eidetic memory, he remembered every one, he hummed, “Sword.”

“Street gangs use swords?” his companion asked with confusion in his voice.

He snorted, “Too many Kung Fu movies.”

Kal-El was quiet, and Bruce realised he didn’t get the joke. He sighed, when those lips kissed the scar. Then those gentle fingertips traced another scar, this one a thick groove of puckered skin, “And this one?” his companion asked.

He sighed at his touch, “Sharpened umbrella tip.”

He heard Kal-El snort softly. Bruce smiled; he probably didn’t even know what an umbrella was. Did they have umbrellas on Krypton? Did it even rain on Krypton? His breath was shuddery as his lips brushed the scar, and the tip of his tongue licked along it. Then he found the next one, it was tiny and it revealed to him how keenly Kal-El was examining his body. He felt his breath already glancing over it, and knew he was getting ready to kiss it, “And this one?”

Bruce groaned despite himself, and then said wryly, “Slinky.”

“Uh?”

He could tell his alien master was baffled by the word. He didn’t try to explain, he just repeated, “Slinky.”

The Kryptonian caught him, and flipped him over, and gazed down at him, and accused with a smile, “You’re just making this up.”

Bruce gazed up into his incredulous face, and shook his head cheekily, “Nope.”

Kal-El shook his head, “You…” he didn’t finish the sentence, he leaned in and kissed his lips instead, and Bruce smiled into the kiss.

~*~

Later after, they returned to the compound with their full water skins. They went to their chamber, and his alien master uncovered the cask, then Kal-El left him in charge of topping up their water cask as he went to collect their food.

After he had gone, Bruce tried to get his head back in the game, and figure out his proceeding game plan, he couldn’t let his feelings obstruct his mission. He had failed to find word of Clark Kent. He was dead he was sure. There was only one thing to do now.

As he lay across the bed, his eyes got caught on his black cape draped over the bed as a blanket. He thought about leaving it behind when he left, he could get a new one made when he got home. 

He didn’t know why in the short space of a few days, he was so concerned about an alien that had more than most of the convicts out there, an alien who might even have been the very person who killed the Blur. For whatever evil Kal-El had done to be put here, Bruce found he liked him, more than like him and that feeling was urging him to think of returning that kindness even in the smallest of ways.

He got off the bed, and went over and picked up his utility belt. He went through the compartments looking for things that Kal-El could use after Bruce had gone home. He stilled. He hated the idea of leaving Kal-El here. Maybe whatever crime he’d been sent here for wasn’t as bad as he thought. He had said his dad was a scientist and a friend of Zod, maybe Kal-El had just been condemned by association. Maybe he could take Kal-El home with him, surely he could settle in and… 

The only way to know Kal-El’s crimes was to ask him. He had heard his reputation here, what if he told him and it was worse than he expected. He winced at his own thoughts. Shit, he couldn’t let his feelings for him cloud his judgement. Kal-El was here for a reason and he just had to accept it.

He put aside a small scalpel sharp blade, they had swords here, but he hadn’t seen anything with precision. He decided to leave his bola too; it might help bring down the giant insects. He thought about leaving his laser too. The other things, he might need himself to escape, as he truly needed certain contents of the belt to make his escape. He checked the last compartment; he lifted the vial out and shook the precious red liquid. This was one of the things he needed to get back to Earth. Then he touched his fingers to the other object in that pocket, a shield shaped crystal with the Red-Blue Blur’s symbol on it, the crystal and the blood, a precious sample given to him by his friends. He was told that the blood was the key to the crystals padlock that opened the portal back to Earth. 

He repacked his belt, and reset the locking device that only he could open, just like his cowl. He stood up, and he hid the gifts that he was leaving in the corner underneath Kal-El’s old armour and cape.

After he finished storing them, he returned to the bed and waited for Kal-El to return.

Moments later, his master returned to the chamber with today’s ration of meat. Kal-El sat down at the head of the bed and then met Bruce’s gaze, he asked, “Are you hungry now, or do you want to save this for later?”

Bruce approached the bed, and wondered, “What did you want to do in the meantime?”

Kal-El’s alluring eyes held his with knowingness. “Why don’t you come over here?”

He was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, Bruce breathed deeply, and then he caught the hem of his tattered top and he pulled it over his head, and off and Bruce let it fall. Then he climbed on the bed, and he crawled up it, Kal-El let himself fall back against the mattress. Bruce came to a halt once he was braced over Kal-El and gazing down into his eyes. They breathed steadily together, and then Bruce leaned in and he kissed his alien master’s full lips. 

Bruce groaned in pleasure, and his legs instinctively straddled his lover. He felt his own hardness against Kal-El’s, and then Kal-El rolled them over and he spread his thighs wider to allow Kal-El some room for his big frame. 

Kal-El growled into his mouth in response. He felt his movement under him. Then Bruce rolled them over again, and he twisted, and squirmed and rocked down on his master's bulging crotch. 

God, he was going to miss him.

That thought stopped his rampant actions, and he lifted his body from his lover’s and scooted back. His lover’s eyes gazed up at him from his flushed, turned on face at a loss at why he had stopped so suddenly. 

There was a question in his lover’s eyes, but Bruce didn’t respond with words. Bruce caressed his bearded cheek, and then Bruce leaned down slowly and he kissed Kal-El’s full lips sensually. His lover whined softly, and then he returned the kiss. 

Bruce reached down and he found the hem of Kal-El’s robe-like top, and he dragged it up over his head. Then Bruce began again at his lips. He brushed his own bristles against Kal-El’s soft beard, and then he went lower to his throat, and he kissed and he sucked there, enjoying the taste of salty flesh, and enjoying hearing Kal-El’s soft groans of pleasure. Bruce murmured, “You taste delicious.”

His alien lover asked breathily, “Why now?”

He knew what he was asking, why are you giving instead of just allowing or taking. Bruce murmured, as his lips reached his broad strong chest, “I want to, I want you.” It was as simple as that. 

He slowly licked the planes of muscle, before sucking his hardened nipple into his mouth savouring it. He played with it with his tongue, and Kal-El arched under him, his fingers threaded into Bruce’s hair. He felt their matching erections during the motion. For the first time, Bruce wondered – considered what it would be like to wrap his lips around a girth of flesh. Would he be any good at it, would his lover enjoy it if he tried, would he like doing it as much as Kal-El seemed to, most of all, would he be able to actually bring himself to do it? 

He realised he had stopped his attentions to his lover, when Kal-El asked gently, “What is it Bruce?”

He lifted his head, and he met his eyes, lustful but caring eyes. He asked in return, “Why don’t you demand…” Kal-El’s brow creased, but Bruce found the words, “…demand that I give you pleasure…?”

His lover’s eyes softened, “I could do. I could do anything I want in this place, but I don’t want what you’re not willing to give me, Bruce.”

“How can you be so…” …good is what he almost said, but that wasn’t the right word, not for this man in this place.

Kal-El gazed at him waiting for him to continue, but Bruce didn’t have the words to finish, so he bowed his head and he returned to his lover’s torso. He mouthed and he licked against his abs, still wary about what he wanted to do once he got to his waistband, and what he was actually going to do. He might chicken out. The big bad Batman might chicken out. He laughed at himself at that thought, and Kal-El laughed lightly as his breath and his lips tickled him.

Bruce smiled against his lover’s navel. Then he pulled back slightly to consider his waistband. His eyes feasted on the length outlined in his lover’s pants, and the muscled torso under him. God, he was almost perfect except for… Bruce frowned and looked closer at the jagged line of discoloured flesh just to the side of his navel. His mind slowed down to a crawl at the implication of that welt, and he asked, “What’s this?”

Kal-El glanced down at what he was looking at, and then he harrumphed, and laid this head back. He said wryly, “I’ve not always been the General’s favourite.”

He ran his finger over the scar gently; he asked quietly, “You got hurt fighting in the arena?”

“Yes, almost bled to death.”

Bruce’s mouth was dry, and he felt a little dizzy. 

“But you survived…?”

“One of Zod’s men was a medic in the Kryptonian army, he stitched me up.” he swallowed hard, “My General had me taken to his chamber, and made sure I was looked after until I was well again.”

He didn’t even know how to feel about what he was hearing. He almost wanted to pretend he wasn’t hearing it. He crawled up his lover's body, and he laid his head against Kal-El’s bare chest. His lover sighed and put his arms around him, and held him tenderly. Bruce asked, “Until I came here I thought fights were to the death. Why did Zod let you live if you weren’t his favourite then?”

Kal-El’s thumb caressed Bruce’s bare muscled arm, as he revealed, “I think he couldn’t bear for it to be the end, despite everything that’s happened between us. He wanted us to build a new Krypton on Earth, but now we get to rule this place together instead.”

He still wasn’t sure of what he was being told. He questioned softly, “Why didn’t his plan on Earth work, did someone stop him?”

He felt Kal-El laugh softly under him, but the wry words were hollow sounding, “I guess someone did.”

Anxiety filled Bruce’s body, he needed straight answers, but he couldn’t reveal his real identity in the process, what if he was wrong. He believed Kal-El cared for him, cared for who he had led him to believe he was, but would that loyalty extend to a do-gooder, as Kal-El had called his kind. He reached down and he stroked the scar dissecting Kal-El’s gut. His alien protector here in the Zone, caressed Bruce’s face with his thumb tenderly. Then he leaned in and kissed him carefully, and Bruce instinctively kissed him back.

Suddenly, the doorway was filled with people, Zod and Ursa. The dark eyed woman pointed at them lying in each other’s arms in disgust, “See isn’t it what I told you, he is intimate with his pet. He can’t deny it now.”

Zod looked on austerely, “You dishonour me Kal-El. You’ve been playing me for a fool all this time. From now on you will have no favourites.” He called out of the doorway, and then his devoted serfs arrived. “Take the human away.” He told them.

The alien convicts came forward, and grasped Bruce and dragged him away from Kal-El, towards the doorway. Kal-El jumped up from the mattress, and instinctively tried to reach him. However, more convicts came in and held Kal-El back blocking his way. Kal-El shouted a plea, “Zod please, don’t hurt him.”

General Zod looked disappointed, “You have chosen these humans over me for the last time, Kal-El.”

It was the confirmation that Bruce had needed, and as he was dragged out of the chamber, his eyes held on to his lover’s distraught face, and inwardly and silently, Bruce screamed, ‘Clark!”

 

The end

The continuation 'Probation' begins next week


End file.
